A New Day
by Badgervamp
Summary: Buffy & the gang have rescued Spike from the amulet. Now they're working together to create an organization that can track, recruit & train baby slayers before the next apocalypse strikes. But can they keep everyone safe in the meantime, or are Buffy & her unborn baby in danger? And what role does Sagaria, the Slayer Scythe, have to play in all of this. Sequel to A New Life.
1. Chapter 1 - Host

_'__**When the sun rises, do you not see a round disc of fire somewhat like a guinea?'**_

**_O no, no, I see an innumerable company of the heavenly host'_**

_William Blake_

Rupert Giles, Head Watcher, shuffled the papers in front of him as he sat at the far end of a long, oak table set up in the Library and Research Centre at Ashdown Estate. Laughter and the casual conversation of various arrivals drifted around him, mixing with the gentle heat of a midsummer's morning and settling around his tense shoulders like the whisper of a tender caress. He breathed out the stress and impatience that often seemed to trail him these days, and peered around the room at the group of people that gathered before him.

A few of these he had known for years; he had watched them grow through good and bad, blossoming through the ecstasies and triumphs, and struggling through the agonies and tragedies. He had shared the most extraordinary events of his life with them. He had tried to teach them, to guide them; he had tried to impart his so-called learning and wisdom; but in the end, it was he who had learnt from them, lessons that had been hard and at times unwelcome, that often flew in the face of all the accumulated knowledge that he had based his life on. But those lessons had opened his eyes to an infinite new world of possibilities and helped create the man he was today. Undoubtedly, the learning was far from over.

This small group of astonishing people, Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Xander, and against all odds, Faith and Spike, sat either side of the table before him, talking, laughing and teasing, an ordinary looking bunch of young, carefree people. Looks could certainly be deceiving.

In particular, his eyes were drawn to Buffy. She glowed with health and happiness, more content, he thought, than he'd ever seen her. Spike's return seemed to have ignited an inner radiance in her. Leaning against her vampire consort, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, she chatted comfortably with Xander.

Sprinkled among his 'Scoobies', ridiculous term that it was, were others that supported and fought alongside them. Some of these, such as his old friend Althanea and her granddaughter Rowan, or fellow Watchers like Gareth Robson and Cecil Davis, Anthony Collins and Edwards, he'd known for much of his adult life. Others, he'd only met in the last year, Robin, Andrew, several young Watchers such as Matthew Morris and Ashton Hurst, the two dozen girls who had survived the Hellmouth Battle, as well as the new lass, Francesca, who had turned up at their doors last week. An eclectic gathering to be sure.

Finally, everyone who needed to be there was. Giles cleared his throat and caught everyone's attention. He could feel the excitement glittering in his eyes and it didn't take long for those who knew him to pick up on it also and the air began to quietly hum with anticipation.

"Yes, well, welcome everyone. Thank you for your attendance this morning, on this, the second official meeting of our organisation. It is only three weeks since our inaugural meeting and much has been unveiled since then. Today we have several important decisions to make.

But before we begin, I would like to take this opportunity both personally, and professionally on behalf of the new organisation, to formally welcome Spike back to this dimension, and onto the council. He has already contributed much and, as Sagaria's 'Dark warrior' and the father of Buffy's child, he will undoubtedly continue to play a critical role in events to come."

Spike's head shot up and a look of shock and delight slid over his face. Buffy wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek, her eyes shimmering with pride. As cheers and murmurs of "Well done Spike" and "Welcome back Fangboy" echoed around the room, Spike caught Giles' eye, acknowledging his words with an uncharacteristically humble nod. Gradually the room settled down and Giles took back centre stage.

"Just a few minutes ago, as I sat here, I looked around the room in wonder. Before me sits an amazing group of warriors, brave, fearless, talented and tenacious – whether Slayer or vampire, witch, or Watcher, or simple heroic human, each and every one of you has contributed in one way or another, big or small, towards the ongoing task of keeping this world we live in safe and sound for those that inhabit it. For some of you, this involvement is recent, while others have been part of the cause for many years now.

I'd love to tell you that the battles are over, that the war has been won and send you all on your merry ways to your happily ever afters. But we know that our world is always in danger from some supernatural force or another and that we have many, possibly endless conflicts and evil forces to overcome." Giles' rhetoric had his audience spellbound, and the room was silent and still apart from the subtle nodding of heads here and there.

"But we will not be alone in that fight. Thanks to Sagaria, the Slayer Scythe that Buffy attained and the activation spell that Willow used to tap into Sagaria's essence, for the first time in all of recorded history, we have an army of warriors available to us. Our challenge is to work out how to find these girls, how to convince them to join us, how to train them and how to manage and effectively utilise such a large and diverse group.

We will need the talents and efforts of every single person in this room, and more besides, if we are to succeed in this endeavour. Some of these tasks have already begun. Thanks to the efforts of Xander and his team, we succeeded in opened this amazing residential training and research centre ahead of schedule. And two weeks ago, Althanea and Dawn took the first steps involved in finding and identifying our newly activated slayers. I'd like them to talk us through the process."

Giles sat back as the two women made their way to the front of the room. Dawn grinned nervously and waved a little before standing aside for Althanea. The older woman smiled and faced the crowd.

"Good morning everyone. Yes, Dawn and I have been quite busy. Our job is not a difficult one, although it can be somewhat draining. The old Watcher's Council always utilised seers to help identify both potentials, and where they slipped through the net, unknown Slayers who had already been activated. I myself have performed this task for them in the past."

"But how can you tell who is a slayer or a potential and who isn't?" Kennedy asked.

"Ah, a good question Kennedy. All living, and undead creatures give off a trace signature, a sort of vibration or energy frequency if you will. With Slayers and even potentials, this signal is particularly strong and of a certain calibration that is not hard to isolate if you know what you are looking for. Experienced seers are able to seek out these signals by sending out vibrations of their own that will interact with the Slayer signal. It's a bit like a mystical radar system in a way."

There was a buzz around the room as everyone considered the implications of this information.

"But its not foolproof right? I mean some of us didn't get picked up as potentials." Rona queried as Buffy, Faith and Colleen nodded.

"Well it's by no means a perfect art. The greatest challenges are often distance and accuracy, particularly if two or more potential signals originate from the same area. Usually seers will scan a general area to locate any interesting signatures and then localised covens might use a spell to refine that search down to the potential candidate. I believe that Willow carried out that task for you at one stage in Sunnydale."

Those survivors of the Hellmouth Battle nodded quietly as they remembered Willow's discovery of sweet, brave Amanda.

"Considering the numbers we are dealing with, we needed to modify the process a little. Given that our job has been to seek out those vibrations by projecting our energy over increasing distances to isolate a signal and determine the range and direction of the slayer, both distance and accuracy became vital. Using Dawn's unique power source, I have been able to strengthen and amplify my base signal, somewhat like a satellite dish, in order to cover much greater distances than are usually possible. Initially Dawn's role was simply that, of an amplifier. But this young lady is naturally talented and a quick study, and in the last week she has begun to locate slayers on her own, leaving me to use Sagaria, an effective means in its own right, to achieve my own targets."

Dawn blushed as she received a round of applause, proud of the increasingly important role she had finally found for herself within the group.

"In the last two weeks Dawn and I have traced the signatures of over a hundred new Slayers in just the U.K., Ireland and Western Europe."

"Wow," Buffy uttered as Spike added "Bloody Hell" to the chorus of exclamations coming from the other young Slayers in particular.

"I'll get Dawn to take over and explain the next stage," Althanea said as she sat down next to Giles and gratefully accepted the glass of water he poured for her.

Dawn had sobered up from the heady first days of her initial power tapping. She took her responsibilities and talents seriously, and had worked hard to master the array of skills she had so far uncovered. The young woman who stood at the head of the room was quiet and composed, but clearly nervous. However, her enthusiasm for her role, the successes they had achieved and Buffy's encouraging nod soon bolstered her confidence.

"Hi guys. So Althanea and I were doing real well. We'd found heaps of Slayer signals. But the problem was that they were often clumped together and it was real hard to tell if each signal was another slayer or one we'd already found. The other problem was that we needed to do the locations quickly 'cos there could be all sorts of other evil creeps out there, just like the Bringers, who could start doing the same thing and killing or stealing our Slayers."

"And we don't wanna share," Xander called out.

"So we needed some way to actually identify the name and address of each Slayer and if possible, the estimated number of Slayers in each country, just to give us a guideline as to whether or not to keep searching. But to do that we needed someone a little geekier than Alth or me; we needed someone who could solve big mathematical problems and access computer tracking systems; we needed…. Andrew."

Dawn turned and flourished her hand in Andrew's direction. There were cheers and catcalls as the ex super villain jogged to the front of the room and took a bow.

"Thank you, thank you all. I'd just like to say that it's a privilege to be here and to be part of this noble cause, sharing my skills and talents for the greater good. I really feel that I am well on the way to redeeming myself for all my past sins. I feel like Wolverine when…"

"Oh Good Lord. Will you just get on with it," Giles' admonishment was echoed by the rest of the group.

"Of course Professor Xavier. So we needed a simple method of identifying these girls precisely without like flying all over each time we located one. Dawn and Althanea's methods are quite accurate, they can generally situate a signal within a ten-yard radius. Using Keyhole Inc.'s satellite application called Earth Viewer, I can quickly narrow a slayer signal down to a single residence, and by accessing local Government databases and Google, I can generally come up with the names, ages, genders and often photos of the current occupants. If our new slayer lives at home, in a unattached residence, I can use a process of elimination to come up with a name, age and address of our probable suspect."

"Sounds great, but what if the chick has a big family, or lives in a block of flats or is at boarding school or … in prison?" Faith drawled.

"Good question young Rogue." Andrew replied, ignoring Faith's folded arms, pissed off expression and pointed glare at Spike. "This scenario is most common so we needed to utilise more accurate systems than we had used so far. We hacked into as many Government and commercial CCTV systems as we could. Over the last week we've refined our system a little and can now track and label a Slayer in just over 30 minutes. But I believe, with a little help from Goddess Willow, we may be able to tie the magic and the technology together to create a fully integrated Slayer identification package."

"Oh, oh," Willow called out, enthusiasm lighting up her eyes. "I was just thinking that if we did an enjoining spell, we could tie Althanea's scrying skills, a touch of Dawn's battery power and a dash of Sagaria's Slayer essence to the tracking software, then all we'd need to do would be to programme the computer to remotely connect to the relevant database and we'd have a completely portable Slayer track and trace."

Willow was fired up, but in her eagerness, she failed to notice the look of disappointment on Dawn's face. Both Buffy and Spike spotted it though and decided to talk to the witch later to make sure Dawn wasn't pushed out of her new role. Giles had also observed the young girl's reaction and quickly sought to intervene.

"That is a possibility you could work on Willow. Nevertheless, these three have done an amazing job so far. Where are we looking at first Andrew?"

"The process isn't perfect, but so far we've managed to come up with the names and addresses of these girls."

At this point Andrew indicated the portable screen and clicked on the laptop in front of him to display a map of Western Europe surrounded by arrows and colourful charts detailing a long list of names, addresses and ages.

"As you will notice, I have sorted the names into geographical groupings. This allows for the implementation of economical collection procedures."

The room's occupants studied the chart intently. Each group of girls was listed under the name of a country. The U.K., France and Italy were all listed with 17 or 18 names in each, while Germany had 25 and Spain 14. Even smaller countries like Portugal, Belgium, Greece and the Netherlands had 3 or 4 names written under each of them, while Denmark and Ireland had a single name each.

"There are 106 names listed on this chart," Giles said. "That seems a considerable number based on a relatively small geographical area. What are your predictions for worldwide numbers of new Slayers?"

"Well," Althanea stood in order to address Giles' question. "We feel pretty certain that we've picked up every single activated Slayer in these eleven countries. Andrew calculated the per head of population percentages and ratios and has put together another useful chart for us."

Giles sighed as Andrew leapt up again. The boy was undeniably useful, but he wished he didn't have to be so irritating.

"We began with the 106 slayers located around the eleven EEC countries. We allowed another ten percent, so 10, for the girls that we know were taken out by the bringers before the battle began, plus 3 for the local girls that died in Sunnydale. That gave us 119. Then we added the populations of these eleven countries and divided that by 119. That gave us a figure of just over 3 million. So we estimate that about 1 in every 3 million people will be a newly activated Slayer."

While Willow and the Watchers were listening with interest, the remaining Scoobies and the Sunnydale Slayers were getting glazed looks in their eyes. Andrew sat back down and fiddled around with the computer, bringing a new document up on the screen. Giles cleared his throat and explained the figures before them.

"This chart shows us a list of all the major countries in the world with populations over 3 million – 136 in total. Using a ratio of one Slayer for every three million head of population, we've been able to do a rough prediction of the distribution and density of Slayers we could expect to find in each country. The Slayer predictions are in the far right column. As you can see we anticipate significant Slayer populations in China and India – over 430 and 330 respectively and other large groups in Asian countries such as Pakistan, Bangladesh and Vietnam. Accessing, alerting and recruiting the girls in these countries, especially in more remote areas, may prove quite challenging given the cultural, economic, religious and language differences we will face. People like Chao-Ahn," Giles nodded his head in her direction, "will become crucial in the months ahead as we attempt to locate and gather up these girls."

"So cut to the chase Rupes," Spike said, "just how many new Slayers do you think we might find? Or is it a case of '_As the host of heaven cannot be numbered, neither the sand of the sea measured'?_"

"Well Spike, as to how many we find, that rather depends on the speed and accuracy of our tracking and recruitment programmes. But in terms of how many girls have been activated and now find themselves with sudden, unexplained strengths and abilities, we believe we may be looking at as many as 2000 worldwide."

"Bloody hell," said Spike, "a heavenly host indeed."

The audience sat in thoughtful silence, stunned by the sheer numbers and by the enormity of the retrieval task ahead of them.

Giles nodded at Andrew who once again changed the page up on the screen. Up popped the prophecy they were now becoming familiar with, the Amroz prophecy from the Pergamum Codex.

_**The Days of the Chosen Ones**___

_'__And a time shall come to pass, when Slayers walk the earth, using their powers to beat back the Scourge of Amroz. The battle will be long and hard. Victory shall only be theirs if the Legion of Chosen Ones stands strong, lest the fading of their new powers signal sure defeat and the beginning of the End Days._

"I think we must seriously consider," Giles said, "that in order to build our necessary Legion, we must find and gather up every single Slayer that we possibly can, that we train and support them so they can 'stand strong' and that we prepare them for the battle ahead. To fall short in any of these duties could mean the end of it all."

End Notes: Keyhole Inc's Earth Viewer (2001) was the predecessor to Google Earth, which wasn't released until 2005.


	2. Chapter 2 - Strategy

**Author's Notes:**

There's a fair bit of exposition in the first few chapters as the context is set.

**_'_****_To win by strategy is no less the role of a general than to win by arms.'_**

_Julius Caesar_

The Slayers were in the middle of one of their most critical battles yet. The girls had one another's backs, as any move made by one of them was closely scrutinized and cheered on. Their adversaries were older, more experienced, and less quick to anger, more strategic. But the girls had youth, enthusiasm and mad skills on their side. They had taken a few direct hits, but they had handed out even more fatal blows. The scent of victory was in the air. Slowly but surely they were grinding the Watchers into the ground.

It had begun with what Giles had suggested would be a short presentation on the anticipated make-up and M.O. of the Slayer Retrieval team. He had proposed that he, Robson, Faith and Wood set off as soon as practical to begin collecting up the identified Slayers, first from England and Scotland, followed by Ireland and Wales, then France, Spain and Portugal over the subsequent weeks. With any luck they would have collected the girls on Andrew's list by the end of the first month.

However, Giles had appeared neither surprised nor even particularly bothered by the vigorous debate that had erupted over this proposal. In fact he appeared to sit back and play Devil's advocate as the two sides argued the relative merits of both the original motion and the various counter suggestions that were being put forward by an astonishingly united, passionate, and articulate group of young women.

As the Slayers systematically questioned and refuted the size, make-up, name and planned schedule of the proposed retrieval group, their suggestions began to form a cohesive and viable alternative. Rather quickly they won over the younger Watchers, who subsequently sat bemused on the sidelines, until, as the shape of the Slayers' proposal came together, they began to add weight to the girls' argument.

The room buzzed with excitement as suggestions were offered up, discussed, debated, amended and recorded. Buffy grinned as Dawn and Caridad executed a high five while Matthew tried his hardest not to let a pout settle over his handsome face. Behind her, Vi had her hand up and was frantically vying for attention.

It took longer for Davis, Robson, Edwards, Collins or even Robin Wood, who having been raised by one was schooled in the ways of Watcher traditions, to let go of their entrenched ideas about 'the way things should be done'. Giles on the other hand, appeared to be challenging the girls' pitch initially, but it soon became apparent that his questions were offered more to motivate their analytical thinking and justifications and his smile just got bigger with each valid rebuttal and confident assertion coming from the Slayer camp.

Eventually, the proposition had been put together and presented. Several 'Recruitment Teams', as the girls wanted them to be called, would work in confined geographical areas. The teams would consist of two or three Slayers and just one of the younger Watchers. Where possible a team would include at least one person who was familiar with the culture and language of the candidates.

The girls argued for connection and empathy over experience and authority, maintaining that it was better to have a team that the candidates could relate to and feel comfortable with than one that would intimidate and confuse them further given the already scary circumstances they now found themselves in. The new Slayers used their own experiences to illustrate this point and it was hard to argue with them.

They would make contact with the girls first, a quick, snappy interview session that would explain who they were and establish a relationship through their shared experiences. Each girl would be offered the opportunity to train at a first class facility, gain a recognized qualification and have a ready-made career available to her when she graduated. They would be invited, along with one or two family members, to attend a presentation that would be held at the end of the interview period.

If the team could contact and interview three or four girls in a day, a presentation held on the third night might involve ten or more candidates and each girl's guests. The presentation would briefly outline the special gifts and responsibilities each girl now possessed, with demonstrations from the Recruitment Team and any of the candidates that felt comfortable enough to participate. They would be informed that these new abilities could not be traded in or given away and that the down side was that without training, knowledge or backing, they would now be at risk from the many supernatural creatures that would wish to seek out and destroy them.

However, the emphasis would be on the extraordinary nature of these unique gifts and the exclusive opportunities provided by the Training Academy – physical training to help them defend themselves and others from attack and academic training to help them strategize and plan and in every other way survive and lead full lives in this new world they were now part of. Emphasizing exclusivity and opportunity over coercion and duty would also add an element of elitism to the programme.

Finally, as a sweetener, if they had a close friend or sibling who was interested and met the entry criteria, scholarships would also be available for Sackville College, the Watcher's Academy – kind of a two for one package deal and laying down the future foundations of the sort of successful support network that the Scoobies had provided for Buffy.

The use of several teams would allow for greater coverage in shorter time frames. The new girls, after they'd completed a fortnight's induction period, could then augment team membership, allowing for both greater relevance when recruiting and exponential growth in the number of teams operating.

The girls' enthusiasm provided a strong inducement but it was the rationality behind their suggestions that won the older Watchers over and in the end the vote was unanimous, the teams would be set up and set off within the week.

As a sense of satisfaction settled over everyone, Giles made his way back to the front of the room, an enigmatic smile gracing his face. He stood there for a few seconds, casually making eye contact with each of the puzzled individuals before him.

"Well done everyone. I am delighted with the outcome of this discussion. Not only have you come up with a practical and highly feasible solution to the challenge of recruiting the new Slayers, but also you have truly worked together to come up with this concept. The Slayers have found their voice and the Watchers have learned to listen to their opinions – not an easy task for the old school practitioners among us who were taught that the Watcher should have control, while the Slayer, no better than a tool, should meekly comply."

"Yeah, well that never worked for you in Sunnydale either did it Rupes?" Spike asked wryly, as the Scoobies chuckled in agreement.

"No Spike, it certainly didn't and in fact, that is I believe, a huge part of what has made Buffy so successful. Without her instincts, strategic skills and downright bloody mindedness, many of the battles we faced would have been lost."

Buffy smiled at Giles, his acknowledgement finally laying to rest so many of the issues that had arisen between them during the final weeks of Sunnydale.

"However, we didn't always make it easy for her," he continued. "Too often we didn't listen to her, we questioned her decisions, made her doubt herself, abandoned her. We forced her to become much more insular and secretive than she needed to be, compelling her to 'stand alone' like the old Council axiom. I was guiltiest of all."

The room was heavy with introspection, as its members considered Giles' somber words. Several heads hung in remorse.

"But at other times, particularly in the early days, we worked together, supporting her, helping her, and we triumphed through team effort. We didn't always get it right but the idea was spot on. And that's what I witnessed here today as you formulated the plan for Slayer recruitment, and that's what we need to utilize to create a new organization for the twenty first century.

We need an organization that is founded on respect and fairness. Everyone has a role to play, but we must never forget that these girls have been Chosen and they have abilities and instincts that grant them our professional respect and personal regard. But neither should we ignore the contributions of our magic wielders, our researchers, our teachers or of our families and friends. Everyone counts. Now more than ever it will be crucial to create strong squads with robust connections between squad members and with their support personnel so that we can begin to utilize these vast resources in the most effective and fulfilling ways possible."

Giles spoke with outmost conviction as cries of 'hear, hear' rang out around the room.

"I expect the people in this room today to form the genesis of our new organization. We will have enormous challenges ahead of us: how to house, train, educate and deploy such large numbers of Slayers; how to quickly and efficiently replace our decimated stock of Watchers; how to fund this massive venture; and how to ensure that we are able to effectively work together and communicate with one another. But in this room this morning I was fortunate enough to witness the very real beginnings of what I believe could be a powerful executive council.

If we can find common ground among a diverse group such as this, in a relatively quick, painless and successful way, this bodes well for the future of our organization. There are many decisions that are yet to be made, positions that need to be allocated, and roles that need to be defined. But those jobs will keep us busy throughout the afternoon and evening, and I think right now, lunch is calling us. So before we break up for the morning, could we give some thought to a name for our new organization, a name that reflects what we do and how we do it?"

"What about just 'The Council'?" Davis suggested.

There was a chorus of groans from around the room, mainly from the girls.

"Remember to treat all suggestions seriously and with the respect they deserve," Giles cautioned.

"Fine Giles," Buffy spoke up. "Great idea Cecil, but apart from carrying too much negative baggage from the past, I don't think its informative enough. People won't get what 'The Council' is all about from that title."

"Well, how about 'The Slayer Organization'?" said Kennedy.

"That perhaps leans a little too far the other way, not taking into account the other members of the team and giving the public too much information all at once." Giles countered softly.

"Okay, then what about the 'International Legion of Warriors'? It's descriptive, and references the Sagaria Prophecy," said Andrew hopefully.

"Bit of a mouthful ain't it Jimmy Olsen?" Spike said.

Andrew glanced at Spike, delight and discontent, alternately schooling his features as he reacted to the vampire's choice of sobriquet.

"And possibly a little incendiary for public consumption." Giles added.

"What about something with 'Guardians' in the title?" Willow said thoughtfully.

"Hmm not bad," Giles muttered, "particularly from a public point of view, although it might create some confusion internally with the group of women who created Sagaria. Which reminds me, we must look into the Guardians, they must have a recorded history somewhere."

"Actually," Matthew called out hesitantly, "we may have already found out a bit about the Guardians. Unwittingly, I might add, as we were carrying out a little more background research into Sagaria and the Scythians. And there's a fair bit of conjecture involved." He paused as Giles raised an eyebrow, willingly him to continue.

"Well we, that is Colleen and I," a smattering of partly stifled giggles broke out behind them at this and a crimson heat stole over Matthew's cheeks, "We, we were quite taken by the story of Sagaria."

Colleen, conveniently sitting next to Matthew, turned back from glaring at her friends and added, "I went to Matthew for help with the research. See my babusya, my Grandma, originally came from Kiev in Ukraine, and she always told me tales of distant warrior ancestors who rode the steppes on horseback and defeated all who challenged them. I did a project on Ukraine at high school and found out that she was referring to the Scythians so your presentation three weeks ago really got me curious. Matthew agreed to help me access the materials and we've been spending all our free time since then reading up on the latest research and theories about the Scythians and also uncovering legends and myths."

"So where do the Guardians come into your story," Willow asked.

"Well, that discovery was a bit further down the track," Matthew took over. "First we found out all we could about the Scythians. They were nomadic pastoralists who occupied large areas of what is now Ukraine, Russia and Central Asia during the first millennium B.C. They were an ancient Iranian people who were renowned for their horseback hunting and warfare."

"As we read, we kept finding references to Amazons," Colleen interjected, "as in the mythological race of female warriors. There seems to be heaps of evidence that the Amazon myth was based on tales of real warrior maidens – probably Scythian. And recently discovered burial remains have proven that Scythian women certainly fought as warriors, dressed and armed no differently than the men. When the men went off on hunting raids, the women would have remained behind, ruling over and defending their people and their territories. These women would certainly have fought in battles if they had to."

"And Greek travellers coming across the Scythians may have taken back accounts of whole tribes ruled entirely by women. Their stories would have formed the basis of the myths," Matthew added.

"And their connection to the Guardians?" Buffy prompted.

"Well, the Amazons, have also been given the credit for inventing the battle-axe or_sagaris_, although the weapon was linked with both Amazon and Scythian tribes by Greek historians. When we read this we started to wonder about Sagaria and the Guardians, so we dug a little further," Colleen shared.

"Next we discovered a tentative link between the Amazons and the cult of Artemis. Artemis was Goddess of the hunt, wild animals, wilderness and young girls and she was worshipped throughout Ancient Greece. She had many names and was worshipped by many of the ancient peoples, with temples erected in her honor throughout the known world."

"But several historians seemed to think that Artemis herself was appropriated from an older mythology. Then we found out that the origin of the Temple of Artemis in Ephesus, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, has been attributed to the Amazons. Which was pretty strange given that Scythians in general did not build shrines or temples, and Artemis was not one of the deities they regularly worshipped. Well not that we knew at that stage. The only info we had was that they had worshipped a pantheon of eight Gods, but only the names of six were ever listed, and none of these were equated with Artemis."

"But then we came across a description of ancient esoteric practices contained in a series of letters written by the Greek historian Herodotus, that had been found in a package of papers rescued from the old Council buildings. It had been translated centuries ago but didn't seem to have much relevance to any Slayer business so had been left moldering away in a vault."

"Davis remembered it," Matthew nodded in the older Watcher's direction, "when I asked him if we had any studies on Scythia. It held the key to tying all this information together. Amongst Herodotus' descriptions was a list of all eight deities, with a mention that worship of the final deity, who happened to correspond to the Greek Artemis, was carried out by the Scythian women alone, its purpose and practice shrouded in arcane rituals and ceremonies. The name of that final deity was Sineya."

There was a gasp of recognition from around the room and a muttered "Bloody Hell," from Spike and some spectacle polishing and an "Oh dear Lord," from Giles. Buffy's eyes were gleaming with excitement, her mind racing ahead of the information they'd been given. It seemed too much of a coincidence that the Scythian Goddess could have exactly the same name as the first Slayer.

"It's not inconceivable that the Scythian women or Amazons as others referred to them, may have kept their rites and practices, and eventually even Sineya's temples, concealed, initially from their outsiders and then from their own men. The temple priestesses, who may have initially served at the temple for short periods of time, could have ended up devoting their lives to protecting the rituals and symbols of Sineya's temples. Over time this may have evolved into an entirely secret cult, dedicated to upholding the hidden central purpose of the order," said Matthew.

"And the priestesses became the Guardians," Buffy guessed.

"And their central purpose was to protect the lineage of warrior women that had descended from their goddess Sineya, and the weapon that they fashioned for their use." Giles proposed.

"Sagaria, noble Sagaria," Andrew sighed.

"Yes, it seems the most likely scenario. They fashioned and named the weapon and blessed it in Sineya's name, infusing it with divine properties. Then they sat back, watching tribes come and go, nations rise and fall and whole civilizations wax and wane. They followed the deeds of the Slayers and the Watchers, covertly giving help or guidance where needed, waiting for the time when the weapon would be required. All of this they did in the name of their goddess."

"But, if I remember my history correctly, the Scythians only appeared 3000 years ago, and the_Song of Sagaria _was estimated to be at least 2000 years older than that timeframe," Giles argued.

"A good point boss," Colleen said, "but there are two possible solutions. One, that the prophecy was created long before Sagaria itself. Or secondly, and this again is pure speculation, what if the Amazons were, at an earlier point in time, quite separate peoples from the Scythians. In fact maybe not a race of their own, but only the remnants of one, or maybe just a small group of Sineya's priestesses and followers who originated from Mesopotamia, Egypt or even somewhere in continental Africa. Perhaps they were fleeing their original homeland, charged with protecting Sagaria and the worship of Sineya, or Artemis as the Ancient Greeks came to know her."

"So, slowly, over hundreds, maybe thousands of years, they could have made their way northeast from West Africa, up and around coastal Northern Africa, through Egypt to Mesopotamia, settling down at various points in time, possibly even for a generation or two. From there they would have travelled into Persia and then into Central Asia, where they arrived at the central Eurasian steppe.

The inhabitants of that region, ancestors of the Scythes, were readying themselves to travel north into the great steppe. The Sineyan's would have been absorbed by those people, all the while maintaining their Sineyan cult, passing it on to the fierce warrior women of the Scythian tribes." Matthew sat back, his history lesson for the day complete.

"So the Guardians were originally the Amazonian mystic high priestesses. That means the Scythian Amazons were like the first ever Slayers," Xander mused. "I wonder if they were as hot looking as Xena?"

"Well look around you Harris," Spike said, "If these girls are the descendants of the originals, then I'd say the Amazons were just as hot as the Warrior Princess." He chuckled quietly as Buffy nudged him in the ribs and growled, "Hey watch it, we are the Amazon warriors."

"Hey, that's it," Dawn said excitedly. "The name of our new organization. You've got the Guardian side, which represents arcane knowledge and magic rituals and the warrior side, representing the Slayers and non-superpowery fighters. We_are_the Amazons."

There was a general chorus of agreement from around the room and Buffy nodded approvingly at Dawn.

" So what shall we call ourselves?" Willow asked. "'The Amazon Organization', no that doesn't sound right, 'The Council of Amazons', oh no that's worse."

"What about adding a word that tells people we are also involved in research and education." Robson suggested.

"Hmmm, like Institute or Foundation?" Wood asked.

"Yeah or even League or Society," Davis added.

"And what about add a word for everyone to know we are organization all over world, like Global or International," Chao-Ahn suggested haltingly.

Everyone sat trying out various combinations, and mumblings echoed around the room.

Finally Buffy said, "I think the primary name should be something simple and easy to remember, like 'Amazon International'. It could be followed by secondary descriptors that give people a hint about what we do, like 'Global Guardians' or 'Defense Institute'."

"Hmmm, 'Amazon International'," Giles said thoughtfully. "Short, catchy, strong sounding and relevant. I like it. And," he added, "We could use the acronym A.I. as shorthand amongst ourselves."

"Oi, isn't that the abbreviation for the Poofter's old detective agency?" Spike grumbled.

"Yes, I do believe it used to be. But I don't think he's using it anymore so we'll just borrow it." Everyone laughed. "So, what does everyone else think? Would you be happy working for "Amazon International'?'

The consensus was unanimous, and spontaneous applause broke out as Andrew typed it out on the screen in large font, with the descriptors underneath in small italics.

**_Amazon International_**

_Defense Institute and Global Guardians_

They happily filed out of the room to lunch, the designation plastered boldly across the front of the room. A new day had begun.

**End Notes:**

This story is intensively researched. Apologies but I can't seem to get to get the hyperlinks working here so you'll have to seek out the sources yourself if you're at all interested. Unless otherwise stated, they're all wikipedia pages so just cut and paste the link into their search and you'll arrive at the main pages I used.

The **Scythians** were an ancient nomadic people originally of Iranian stock who migrated from Central Asia to southern Russia in the 8th and 7th centuries bce. The Scythians founded a rich, powerful empire centred on what is now the Crimea

The **Sagaris** was a kind of battle-axe used during antiquity by the horse-riding peoples of Scythia.

The **Amazons** were a nation of all-female warriors in Greek mythology and Classical antiquity whose name has become synonymous with female warriors in general.

The earliest temenos (sacred site) at **Ephesus** has been attributed to the Amazons in worship of Artemis, their matron goddess.


	3. Chapter 3 - Departure

**_'_****_What we call little things are merely the causes of great things; they are the beginning, the embryo, and it is the point of departure which, generally speaking, decides the whole future of an existence.'_**

_Henri-Frédéric Amiel_

The next few days were crazy busy. Buried amongst the arrangements for the Recruitment Teams: sorting out who would be in each team; dividing up the areas; preparing lists of the candidates names and addresses; booking hotel accommodation; arranging conference room hire; shooting video footage of the Slayers in training for the presentation; and packing for their time away; Buffy and Spike seemed to have very little time for themselves.

She knew they were working to a strict timeframe and that what they were doing was important, but Buffy couldn't help feeling a little resentful that she and Spike had practically had to schedule time to see one another. And Spike had only just been resurrected/rescued, damn it!

It had been three days since the big board meeting. Everyone was zipping around like crazy so that the local teams could set out on Sunday. Team One wouldn't leave until Monday because they were covering Southern England and Wales on Day 1 and 2 before hitting North England, Scotland and over to Ireland for the one young lass showing up there, on Day 3. Team Two were responsible for France, and Team Three for Spain and Portugal, so they were heading off first, each team flying over, then hiring a van, intending to be based on the continent for a while.

Buffy was almost eleven weeks pregnant. Her nausea had eased off considerably, but she still had to be careful in the mornings, and make sure she didn't get too tired. She also had a prenatal (or antenatal as they called it here in the U.K.) appointment in a weeks time, so she hadn't been included in the first four teams, all of whom would be on the road for three weeks solid before flying home for a week's break. The younger Slayers were keen to take on the responsibility themselves, claiming it would be empowering and a chance to prove themselves without the senior Slayers around.

Which was fine with Buffy. She just couldn't wait for them to all clear out so that she and Spike could have some couple time. But not just yet unfortunately. Andrew had shot all the footage and was just doing some last minute editing and special effects, which he claimed would make the promotional video an absolute hit. He was as delusional as ever, but there was no denying he had some very bankable skills and seemed to be making himself quite indispensable.

Buffy had been in three segments, putting the Sunnydale Slayers through formation exercises, in a fight sequence with Spike, and delivering a presentation about what it was like to be a Slayer. Spike and Willow and Giles had helped her write it, a heavily edited version of her life over the last eight years, and she'd tried hard to deliver it in a friendly, welcoming, serious and wise sort of way. Which, between the fluffed lines, giggling, mumbling, attacks of nausea and excessive grumpiness took Andrew about ten takes.

It didn't help that Spike stood there smirking throughout the entire production.

He'd been busy himself. Apart from the few video segments he'd featured in, Spike had surprisingly spent much of his time closeted away with Giles, Robson, Ashton, Matthew and a few other Watchers that she didn't know by name. They were reviewing the direction that Watcher Training would take at the Sackville Academy, and more importantly the role that the modern Watcher would now play in the new Squads.

She and several other of the girls had been asked for their ten cent's worth on the merits and pitfalls of the Slayer/Watcher relationship, where from their points of view it could be strengthened and broadened and what main skills and qualities a Watcher should have. Buffy knew this was a whole new organization, with a whole new perspective, but it still felt weird being in a room full of Watcher types and not being looked down on, told off or subjected to the third degree.

Weirder still was seeing Spike sitting there quite comfortably amongst the group. She knew that the older Watchers were pretty wary of him still, their knowledge of his vicious, bloodthirsty past too difficult to overcome on such short notice and at Giles' say so. The younger ones seemed to look up to him though. Maybe they saw him as a kind of post-modern antihero or something. She wasn't sure, but she thought she'd spotted a touch of hero worship in Matthew and Ashton's earnest gazes. Definitely post-apocalypsy weirdness.

But in other ways Spike seemed to fit right in. He'd taken to wearing an open chambray shirt over his black t-shirt and leaving the duster behind in their suite. It was his one, small concession towards toning down the Big Bad look. Checking out the group, Buffy thought it seemed to be working. Jotting down things on the notepad in front of him and conversing with his team mates in such sincere, subdued tones, Spike could almost pass for a Watcher.

Okay, so Spike hadn't exactly appreciated that observation when she'd voiced it two nights ago. He'd tackled her and rolled them both onto the bed, growling that he'd "show her Watcher", whatever the hell that meant. Well he'd certainly shown her something all right, over and over.

His lips and tongue had chased his fingers across her face, down her neck and onto the soft upper curves of her breasts, the first stroking and caressing while the second lapped and tasted. Deftly, he'd released her lacy bra and her swollen mounds had burst out, only to be captured by his mouth.

With fingers and lips, he'd tugged fiercely on her engorged nipples, driving her to the fine line between pleasure and pain. He kept up that suckling pressure as he looked up and captured her eyes, staring intently at her as he backed off and flicked her nipple once, twice. Buffy's breath hitched and thick cream flooded her loins as a sudden and unexpected orgasm ripped through her body.

Lying there, panting and restless, she'd tried to rip her shirt and jeans off, desperate to feel Spike's body pressed against hers. But his hands had stilled her and he'd continued his slow, tender mission, gently divesting her of her shirt, releasing each button reverently, before placing lazy, sensuous kisses upon each square of revealed skin.

By the time he'd reached her belly button, his tongue flicking in and out of the indentation as she lay there topless on the bed, Buffy was ready to go off again. He'd slid himself back up the bed to lie alongside her, just staring down at her intensely, a mysterious little Mona Lisa smile on his face as he'd popped open her jeans and slipped his hand into the snug space between her knickers and her overheated flesh.

She'd felt the muscles in her abdomen clench and quiver as his fingertips had wriggled under the top band of her sodden knickers. Her breathing was erratic and she was moaning. Spike had slowly thrust his whole hand further south, curling his fingers around until he was lightly cupping her whole mons in his palm.

He'd pressed down very gently and Buffy could feel herself throbbing wildly against his cool palm. She'd tried to tilt her hips up and grind herself against him, desperate by then to get herself off. He'd just smiled at her and used the heel of his hand to push her back down, applying a steady, maddening pressure just above her clit.

Buffy was moaning, almost frothing at the mouth and she was trembling before he reached down and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth, pulled back to gaze intently at her once more, then slid the middle finger of his cupped hand down into her drenched slit. He quickly dragged it upwards then neatly flicked his fingertip once, twice, three times over her swollen clit and she literally exploded. Limbs flailing and a high pitched whining noise coming from her slack mouth, she'd barely been aware as Spike slid the finger responsible down, added it to the next digit and thrust upwards into her spasming cunt. He ground against her g spot and used his thumb to press on her button and she went off again, bucking and screaming fit to burst.

And burst she had, juices pouring from her overexcited quim in torrents as Spike kept on thrusting. Finally she'd begun to calm down and had lain there panting, only semi conscious. Fuck, three huge orgasms and she hadn't even gotten her pants off. Spike was still staring down at her as he curled his hand up into a fist and cautiously dragged it away from her crotch and out of her jeans. Bringing his fist up to his mouth, he opened it up to form a cup. His long, wicked tongue shot out, lapping at the pool of luscious fluids lying in his palm, licking and slurping. Buffy had felt her stomach muscles clench, and her pussy throb again at the sight of that dexterous muscle, moaning as he continued to stare at her.

Finally, his hand was empty. One by one he'd sucked his talented fingers into his hot mouth, sucking up every drop of pussy juice. Buffy had shivered as he'd dropped his damp fingers down to her mouth and traced the outline of her lips. The fragrance of her excitement drifted around her as he'd smirked and said, "So what do you think of your Big Bad Watcher vamp now?"

Buffy had shrieked and rolled him over, attacking his mouth with her lips and his jeans with her hands. Spike might have acted as cool as a Watchery cucumber, but the front of his jeans were sopping, soaked through with the copious amount of precum that had already leaked from his rigid, overexcited cock. She'd briefly thought about getting her own back, putting him through the slow, torturous build up he'd subjected her to, but when it came down to it, she just couldn't wait. She needed him. Like now!

She'd dragged the denim off impatiently and pounced on his trembling cock, sliding her lips down over the swollen head, licking off his sweet oils. She'd sucked deeply, his cock nudging the back of her throat, then pulled up to swirl her Slayer blessed tongue over his knob. "_Ha,"_ she'd thought as he'd shivered and groaned, "_Not so cool now are you, Mr Watcher guy?"_

He'd got a bit short changed on the foreplay, but it really had served him right, and anyway, Buffy couldn't wait any longer. She'd knelt up and shimmied out of her own jeans, kicking them off one leg but too impatient to worry about the other leg. She'd straddled him and reached back to position him at the entrance to her burning cunt.

Her muscles had sucked him in as she'd driven herself down onto his full length. He'd grasped her hips tightly and thrust up into her heat, both of them grunting and panting. This was no love making session, just an out and out fuck, both of them too desperate for their own completion to worry too much about the other's needs.

Not that it mattered because within minutes Buffy had felt Spike swell within her and her body had responded to his call, clamping down on his turgid shaft and milking the spurts of juice he'd fed her.

Finally they were sated and she'd collapsed on top of him. That's when the giggles had started, deep belly laughs that roused Spike from his drowsy state.

"What?" he'd grumbled, laughter not being the exact reaction he was going for.

"What do you mean '_What'_ Mr Big Bad _Watcher_?" she'd smirked, looking up at him playfully. "Oh and I'm never gonna be able to look at this Watcher shirt again without blushing." She sighed as she stroked the blue shirt he was still wearing, ironically considering their otherwise naked and dishevelled state.

Spike had reached down and pressed a kiss sweetly to her forehead before growling in her ear, "Just so long as you don't forget kitten. Don't mind helpin' the Geek Brigade out, but I'm still more Big Bad than Watcher any day."

Buffy had kissed him back and tapped his nose. "Oh there's no chance of me forgetting that. But just make sure you don't forget, no including this particular set of skills on the new Watcher training schedule, okay?"

He'd chuckled at her as she'd snuggled down in his arms and they'd chatted about the actual outcomes of the Watcher meeting before drifting off to sleep.

Buffy sighed. That had been two days ago and they'd had precious little time to schedule a repeat performance since then. Every day had brought new challenges and a long list of meetings to attend, calls to make, timetables to organise, strategies to plan. Most nights she fell into bed exhausted, too tired from the endless jobs and pregnancy hormones to do anything other than sleep. So not fair.

Today's big job had revolved around getting Faith, Lisa, Leslie and their Watcher, Ashton Hurst, packed up and on the plane to L.A. Thanks to Faith, Giles and Xander's efforts, they had already leased a training room come living space in downtown L.A. and it was ready to move into. It had two bedrooms, which the three girls could share between them, and an office they could convert into a bedroom for Ashton.

Lisa and Leslie had both survived the Sunnydale Battle, so Faith was pleased to have their experience, but they were both quiet girls, neither of them really leadership material at this stage. They'd accompanied Faith on her ill-fated raid, but despite the outcome, still had confidence in her.

Ashton was rather a nervy type, not unlike Wesley in his early days. But he was an excellent researcher and quite competent with the magic making according to Giles.

And Faith, well she had plenty of experience and mad skills. She could be a little hot headed at times, a little impetuous, but Buffy could see amazing leadership potential in Faith. She just needed to get away and stamp her own authority on a place. Altogether, Buffy thought Faith's squad would make a good team.

She knew Faith herself was just amping to head off. Partly it was because she was impatient to get a head start on a whole raft of jobs that were lined up over there. Her squad formed Recruitment Team 4 and they were due to start identifying and connecting with new Slayers from Monday. Over the weekend they had to lease a van so that they could start their search with the West Coast.

Faith also needed to check in with Angel. He'd contacted them to let them know he'd met with Cyvus Vail already, but he was pretty light on the details of the meeting other than to say things were 'in hand'. Whatever that meant! Wesley had also kept in contact with them and was generally more forthcoming about anything that he was aware of.

They all felt that Angel, as well as Wolfram Hart itself, needed to be watched fairly carefully. Angel seemed so secretive and it was hard to say how much actual control he had over the law firm. Buffy wasn't sure what the deal was between Faith and Angel. She knew they'd been good friends in the past, but going by the Slayer's comments in L.A. it seemed like she might be interested in a little more than friendship.

Angel still had the curse in effect of course, but Faith was a pretty canny girl and Buffy trusted that she would know how to walk the fine line between fun and disaster. Faith deserved some happiness, Buffy just wasn't sure it would end up being with Angel but either way, she wished Faith all the best.

But Buffy figured that at least part of the reason that Faith was so keen to head off was to escape the messy and awkward situation between her and Wood. She'd had the big 'its not you its me' talk with him as soon as they'd got back from L.A. He hadn't really taken it too well and had been insistent that she was just running scared and that he'd give her some space for now rather than accept her request to end their relationship.

Her announcement sure hadn't improved Wood's mood any. He'd been pretty touchy ever since he'd heard about the plans for Spike's rescue and his disposition had gone even further downhill since they'd got back from L.A.

He hated Spike, and probably not without good cause. So it had to burn that not only had the guy who'd killed his Mom returned from the supposed final death he'd wished on him, but that he'd been welcomed back as a conquering hero. Yeah, Buffy could see how that would seriously piss him off.

But Wood was also too valuable an asset just to dismiss. With the training he'd received from old Bernard Crowley and his educational background, his skills were in short supply. And Buffy remembered what an outgoing, laid-back guy he could be from his Sunnydale High days. But he wasn't doing anybody any good in his current mood. She hoped Giles had a viable plan up his sleeve for the guy.

Buffy sighed and went back to her current task, completing an inventory on all of the weapons they had, including condition and size of each weapon and then selecting a range to ship out to L.A. It wasn't the most exciting of jobs, but she was probably one of the best qualified to do it so it made sense.

She'd put together a good selection, different types of swords, knives, axes, crossbows and heaps of stakes. While she was doing so, she was working out how many weapons they were going to need in order to set up the more than thirty branches of Amazon International Giles intended to open around the globe. She knew it might take years to get them all up and running but there was no rush. One thing they were gonna need a lot more of though was weapons. Maybe they'd have to get on eBay or start going to heaps of garage sales, she thought.

Finally, she had everything itemized and a good stock of weapons ready to pack into an L.A. bound shipping crate, including the blessed sword she'd used on Angel back when she was 17 and the knife Faith had got from the Mayor. They'd both been in the weapon's chest that had been packed onto the bus in Sunnydale, but neither one had been used in the Battle. Both beautifully crafted weapons, she hoped they brought Faith better luck in the future than they had gifted either one of them in the past.

Buffy was going to miss Faith. Despite there being thousands of Slayers across the planet now, Faith was the only one who knew what it was like to be utterly unique, well almost anyway. That had created a connection between them that Buffy had spent too many years trying to deny.

They'd become even closer over the last fortnight, their experiences and chats in Los Angeles helping develop an intimacy between them that had never existed before. And since she'd finally let Spike into her heart, Buffy actually got Faith. She wore her tough shell to protect a vulnerable interior in the same way that Spike always had. But in L.A., Buffy had seen glimpses of that vulnerability. Faith was no different than anyone else; she wanted friendship, love and the chance to be valued for who she was. Buffy thought her friend deserved to experience all three and hoped she got the chance to in L.A.

But not only was she going to miss Faith, she also envied her a little bit. Setting up a squad of her own and heading off on a whole new, action packed adventure sounded pretty cool. Especially as she was pretty much stay-at-home Buffy at the moment.

By Monday, Ashdown would be cleared out for the most part. Most of the Sunnydale Slayers, or Legionettes as they'd taken to calling themselves, after Andrew's coining of the Legion of the Light, were heading out in the Recruitment teams. So too were most of the younger Watcher types, including Wood and even Andrew!

Even Dawn was off on a mission, flying out to L.A. with Faith's squad, just for a week, so that she could pinpoint the local girl's names and locations. From this distance all she and Althanea could pick up were numbers and rough distribution, they needed to be closer to pick up the exact location and utilize the satellite and CCTV programs for actual identification purposes. While she was there, Dawn would attempt to 'scan' the whole Western half of the States, compiling a detailed list for Faith and her team to work through over the next few weeks.

Buffy sighed and settled back to work. She might be a smidge bored, but at least she had Spike and she was safe. That counted for something.


	4. Chapter 4 - Family

**_'_****_Provision there had been for just such meeting_**

**_Of stranger-cousins, in a family tree_**

**_Drawn on a sort of passport with the branch_**

**_Of the one bearing it done in detail'_**

Robert Frost

The door slammed violently and the noise reverberated across the open space of the dojo. Lisa and Leslie dropped their fighting stances and looked up, startled. Ashton popped his head out of the office.

"I guess it didn't go well then?" he queried mildly.

Faith stood there, anger drumming a tattoo through her blood stream. The old her would have let rip at this stage, smashed, bashed and crashed, anything to burn off the rage. But she had responsibilities now, a team to lead. They were a family of sorts, her family, and she was damn well going to do a better job of heading up this family than anybody had ever done in her life. So … step one, cool it.

She cracked her head to the side and blew out a long, slow breath. Swagger on, head up she moved into the room, heading for the fridge in the corner. She grabbed a coke and spun around, the nonchalance gradually becoming more genuine as she shook off the frustration that had propelled her into the room.

"Nah, not so much," she addressed her team. "Angel can be such a dick at times." Faith grinned and the girls laughed and went back to sparring. She slipped past them and into Ashton's office, flopping down into the chair in the corner.

Ashton caught her eye and nodded his approval. A feeling like warm molasses spread over her. This was different, and … nice. She was gonna try real hard not to fuck it up.

They'd only flown into LA two nights ago and it had been a whirlwind ever since. Thank God they'd sorted this place out three weeks ago when they'd come to rescue Spike. Yesterday had been bad enough as it was, picking up linen and towels, a pull-out couch for Dawn and any other prospective guests to sleep on, groceries to see them through the next few days and most importantly a vehicle to get them from place to place as they hunted down and rounded up the Baby Slayers here on the West Coast.

It had to be a reliable wagon and comfortable as they'd be putting in a fair few miles over the next three weeks. Tomorrow they were hitting the road. Recruitment Team 4! Mission parameters set! Seemed like a fucking sci-fi plot, she thought. Oh, …yeah, guess it kinda was!

"Where's Dawn?"

Ashton glanced up at Faith, tearing his attention away from his laptop and the various maps and journals covering the table.

"Oh she went to meet Wesley at a coffee shop along the road. Something about picking his brains on the subject of inter-dimensional travel. He was bringing some other bloke along, Bill or Fred I think she said. Some sort of expert in the field."

Faith snorted, both at the Fred mix-up and at the certain contrast between Dawn's meeting and hers. Good luck to her, Faith thought, she's bound to get more out of Wes than I could squeeze out of his boss.

Angel had played his cards pretty close to his chest tonight. Not that Faith didn't expect that in a way, but part of her did hope for a little more given their history. Okay, so some of it was rocky but they had always had a connection. Well she'd thought so anyway.

But Angel wasn't playing the game tonight. She'd tried to arrange the meeting away from Wolfram and Hart, hoping he might loosen up out from under the law firm's influence, but he'd put her off saying his schedule was booked up and he could only squeeze her in to a twenty minute slot in his office.

She'd asked for a scotch when he offered, hoping he'd help himself to one, setting a more casual tone for their meeting, but he'd blocked her on that one too, explaining his need for a clear head for the upcoming appointments.

She'd tried a professional, business approach, appealed to their past friendship and finally had played the slutty angle, innocently rubbing up against his vamp-hard torso, trying to reignite that spark that had hit them during the showdown at Vail's place, and well she was ready to spark, but Angel … nada!

All of her efforts had been in aid of uncovering what had gone down with Cyvus Vail the previous week. Faith couldn't really care less, except that as Buffy had negotiated the terms of the contract between Angel, Vail and herself, she was honour-bound to ensure it was carried out. And that made it official Amazon business. Besides which, Faith and the others were just plain curious as to why Angel was acting so strangely about the whole thing.

She knew the two had met, Angel was overdue returning the Orlon Window to its rightful owner, and he'd informed Giles that a meeting had been set for last Friday. But he'd been very close lipped about the whole thing. Faith couldn't even get him to confirm that he'd actually handed the cube over to the sorcerer. When she'd pushed him, the strangest look had slid over his stoic expression. She could have sworn he'd looked scared for a moment.

Anyway that had come and gone with the blink of an eye, and he'd gone back to his Oscar worthy impression of a gloomy rock. Damned infuriating considering Faith knew she had it in her to rattle his chains when he let his guard down. She closed her eyes and once more recalled the look on his face and the angle of his body as they'd had their little moment in the midst of the battle against Vail's Kith'harn.

So part of Faith's frustration was purely personal. To be honest, the thought that she and Angel could have maybe explored their attraction to one another now they were both living in LA had definitely crossed her mind. But she wasn't much attracted to gloomy rocks, so his loss, she reasoned.

But she was also pissed off professionally. This was her first assignment as head of the LA branch of Amazon International and her inability to establish an effective two-way dialogue between the CEO of Wolfram and Hart was pretty galling. And a little embarrassing.

She tried not to, but part of her couldn't help wondering if Buffy would have been able to drag the info out of Angel. Fuck, probably. Well, possibly. Okay, maybe. Shit, who knew? Just that it was more than a little humiliating.

In a way, this first meeting had been seen by the executive as a litmus test for the entire working relationship between Amazon and the law firm. If Angel couldn't open up about something as seemingly innocuous as the completion of a deal they were all party to, then it didn't bode well for any future dealings.

Still, Faith wasn't a quitter, and she'd keep at him. And that was more than enough introspective bullshit for now anyway, she reckoned.

Quickly, and a lot more concisely than her rambling musings had allowed, Faith shared the contents of her meeting with Ashton. She might be the head of the team, but with his huge knowledge and quiet, astute ways he was shaping up to be a good 2IC.

"I wouldn't read too much into Angel's reluctance to share," he offered, "who knows, there may be issues we're not even aware of that are shaping his actions."

"Yeah, there's definitely something going on beneath the surface. Oh well, we've got too much on our hands to sit around moping about Angel. He does enough of that for himself anyway." Faith grinned at Ashton and hopped up. "I'm just gonna check if the girls have the van packed …"

She was interrupted by the sound of the door shutting and the click clack of heels signalling Dawn's return.

"Hey," she greeted them as she plopped down into one of the office chairs.

Faith checked out her expression and sighed. "Looks like your mission was slightly more successful than mine."

"If you're asking whether I got any answers from Wes about Angel's meeting with Vail, then that would be a great big no-siree. Wes reckons something weird's going on with that whole deal. Angel's even more close-lipped than usual. You struck out too I gather?"

"Like getting blood from a stone," Faith scowled, "a big gloomy old stone."

She and Dawn both giggled at that image, nodding their heads in total agreement.

"So, what's got you so chipper then?"

"Wes introduced me to Fred. She's been working with the Fang Gang for a few years now. She's a real sweetie. She's like this hardcore physics chick. Angel's even put her in charge of the Science Division at WH. And guess what her special interest field is?" Dawn didn't pause for an answer. "Quantum theory and string theory!" She was particularly vibrating. "Okay, so I don't exactly know what those are, but they've got something to do with energy particles and other dimensions and alternate universes. And Fred's even been through a dimensional portal …"

"Whoa, chill Brat, calm down," Faith said, "a little less with the babbling. So what's with the girl crush? Geez, that Fred's a real chick magnet isn't she?"

"Hey," Dawn blushed and poked her tongue out at Faith while Ashton looked on with amusement. "It's not like that. I just think Fred might be able to help me understand how my abilities work. Kinda work out the ramifications and oh I don't know maybe set up some protocols. Or something."

"Yeah kid, its all good. Just don't forget who she works for now. I trust Wes and Fred, but I don't trust the faceless minions who work for the evilest little law firm in town. Be careful alright? No letting Fred take vials of your blood into that building, you don't know who could get their evil mitts on it."

"Okay, good point. Anyway Ashton, you should hit the laptop, finish off this list of names and addresses in San Fran and Sacramento and I should try and locate any more signals towards the east. We mightn't get to them this week, but every name and address I can come up with before I head home will be a help right?"

"Sounds good. We're hitting the locals tomorrow right?"

"Yes Faith," the Watcher responded, "we've got the names and addresses of two girls here in the city, three out in the suburbs and one down in San Diego. With any luck, we'll get through them all tomorrow."

"Well I think I'll leave you to it. Time to blow off some steam I reckon."

"Oh yeah?" Dawn looked up from her map, the green glow from her hand throwing its light onto the paper beneath it.

"Yup. I think it's about time LA put out the welcome wagon for its three new resident slayers. Time to go kick us some demon ass in the city of angels."

"Be careful, Faith," Ashton threw in her direction.

"Sure thing, Watcher boy. Just a quick recce, no biggie."

They watched Faith disappear through the door and call out to Lisa and Leslie, followed by the sound of the door slamming. Ashton shook his head and Dawn grinned, before they settled back to work.

Angel slammed the door and stomped back over to his desk, throwing his jacket over the arm of the leather couch before plopping despondently down into his chair. He dropped his head down onto his desk and banged it a few times before quickly straightening up as he heard footsteps approaching the door.

Two quick knocks and a "Come in" later and Harmony was standing at the threshold, her handbag over her shoulder.

"Hey, Boss, can I get you anything?" She barely paused for the time it took for him to shake his head. "Well if there's nothing else, I think I'll call it quits for the night. You don't have any other appointments until 11.30 tomorrow when you and Wes are paying a visit to that horrible Magnus Hainsley. Poor Mr Novac, he seemed a really decent guy, for a lawyer anyway. And I don't know if I'll ever get him rinsed out of this skirt." She fingered the hem as she looked down at the stain on her dress. "Blood and guts are just so hard to get out of silk you know." She frowned quietly then looked back at Angel as something struck her. "Hey, the company should really replace this right? I mean it was a workplace accident so …"

"Yeah Harmony, fine, we'll sought something out tomorrow," Angel said wearily, but his secretary was already striding off towards the elevator, muttering something about occupational hazards and employee compensation.

Angel sat there, brooding about his meeting with Faith. He hated the way it had gone down. He'd acted like an ass. He knew it. But the trouble was, he couldn't see any other way out of the situation.

Part of him was excited that Faith was based in LA now. Actually, he thought as he adjusted his pants, part of him was still a little excited. Hell, the girl was gorgeous, and hot, and she knew how to use her many charms. And of course add in that little frisson of deadly excitement that her slayer calling added, well you pretty much had the perfect package.

She was feisty and funny, brave and tenacious. And her friendship meant a lot to him. Over the years, they had built up a bond, had one another's backs. Sure she had her demons, didn't they both. But Angel was proud of the way she'd fought back against her dark side and set out to redeem herself. God, he really owed her. That fucking Angelus had almost killed her a few months ago. But she hadn't given up, she'd really come through for him. And now she'd been chosen to head up the new LA slayer squad.

She deserved it. She'd earned the right to step out from Buffy's shadow. And Angel wanted to support her professionally. Show her the respect she was due as Head Slayer. Show her the respect she was due as his friend. He really did. Instead he'd gone all aloof and uncommunicative on the girl. What a bloody prick.

He'd simply panicked and gone into lock down mode. The safety and happiness of his son was too important to let anything slip. Connor was his family. Angel just couldn't compromise even for the sake of an old friend's feelings.

And it was fair to say Faith had been both pissed off and a little hurt. He'd caught the little moue of confusion and disappointment on her face. Just a flash before she'd quickly buried it beneath that newly minted professional façade of hers. Oh yeah, he had some bridges to mend all right!

But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to concentrate on the big picture, and that was getting Vail to back off.

The meeting with the old warlock had taken place over a week ago, and Angel was now in a worse state than he'd been before it.

He'd put it off for as long as he could, dreading the thought of returning the innocuous looking little Pandora's box to Vail, and in the process leaving himself vulnerable to all sorts of bribery and corruption. If it were up to him, he'd have taken the damn thing and buried it in the bowels of the earth. But he'd signed that bloody contract with Buffy and Vail and so he'd been legally bound to return it.

Ever since the showdown at Vail's place, Angel had been racking his brains to try and think of some way of neutralizing the threat that the old demon's possession of the damned Orlon Window would represent. He'd considered offering him money, artifacts, some sort of contract with Wolfram and Hart, anything, just so that he could retain possession of the cube. He was prepared to enter negotiations with an open mind and an open (company) checkbook.

But Vail had utterly gazumped him. He hadn't been interested in money or baubles. He had his own brand of bribery already mapped out.

Turns out the prophecy related to Sahjan's termination was quite specific. The only person who could kill the trapped demon was_Connor._ Vail wanted Sahjan neutralized, and now he had the cube back, he could call the shots. The best Angel could hope for was a little more time. The old warlock had at least agreed to Angel's request for an extension, but he'd only given him an extra month.

Angel could feel the dread seeping through his veins. How could it have all gone so wrong, so quickly? God, it had only been six weeks since he'd made the biggest sacrifice of his life, given up his freedom and any contact with his son, practically sold his soul and any chance of personal happiness, just so the boy could have a happy,_normal_life.

In exchange, the Senior Partners had left him with this evil, fucking millstone around his neck and an invisible wall been himself and his friends. God, he wouldn't have any friends if they found out what their mighty leader had done. And now? The risks, the deceit, the sacrifice! It could be all for nothing!

"Damn, he's getting away. Quick, you two chase him and I'll try and head him off."

Faith ran to the right, cutting through the trees that were scattered through this section of the cemetery. It didn't take long to work out this was an older part of the memorial park, the crowded headstones marching side by side across the lawn. Which made it a bitch to run through.

She sighed, hurdling as fast as she could. She could spot the vamp through the trees on her left, but she didn't think he'd seen her yet, too intent on the two younger girls thundering along behind him. Shit, she'd have to work on getting them to move with slightly more stealth than the herd of baby elephants they were imitating at the moment.

Still, it was good to finally get the blood pumping again. It had been three weeks since the fight against Vail's Kith'harns and two months since the battle to end all Hellmouths and Faith was getting pretty antsy. Sure, she and some of the girls had done a few patrol runs into London over the last month, but not enough to really get her rhythm going again.

She'd nabbed the keys on the way out of the office. It was late, and she and the girls had an early start in the morning, and none of them were too familiar with LA. They didn't have time to suss out any demon hotspots downtown, or just hang around hoping for a little evil to come their way, so Faith had decided that heading to the nearest cemetery would be the best bet. A little game of vamp tag with a few dustings at the end was just what she needed after her irritating run in with Angel.

And it looked like the doctor was going to deliver just what she'd ordered. Lisa had driven and Faith had navigated, quickly finding her way around the pile of map books the car dealer had thrown in as part of the sale. She'd directed them to a big, old looking cemetery in East LA called Evergreen.

It was about three times the size of any of the boneyards they'd had back in Sunnydale, a massive sprawling thing, all laid out with trees and little winding roadways.

They'd only just parked at the western entrance when Leslie had spotted him. He looked faintly dazed, so was undoubtedly a fledgling. When he'd not so subtly started following a middle-aged woman with a bunch of flowers in her hand, they were ready for action. They'd checked stakes, locked the car and started after him.

But the girls were a little over eager and had tipped him off before they'd been close enough to do anything about it. He'd abandoned his prospective meal and done a runner, leading them on a merry chase through what was undoubtedly his home turf.

That didn't worry Faith through. The hunt was doing wicked things for her bad mood. If she could top it off with a dusting, it'd leave her in good spirits for the start of their recruitment mission. She put on a final burst of speed as she rounded the corner, coming directly side on to him now, and a little ahead. He'd reached a section of road that had low fences running either side of it.

Faith ran full tilt at the fence, springing up onto the top rail and then down onto the road in two single, smooth strides. The vamp didn't even notice her until she slammed down onto the asphalt in front of him. Shocked, and fearful for his unlife he'd jerked to a halt and backed away from her, quickly colliding with the fence on the far side of the road.

Grinning like a panther in heat, Faith prowled towards him, stake dancing in her fingers. Lis and Les arrived, jizzed full of adrenaline and buzzer ready to take him out if he should make a move in their direction.

Faith was only three feet away and closing when he started to reach out with his left hand, preparing to vault the wall behind him. He froze and she reached out to grab his shoulder, seeking purchase to help drive her forward plunge into his chest. But just as she touched him he gave a quizzical little sigh and exploded in front of her.

Stepping back, Faith looked down at her unused stake in confusion. She lifted her eyes back to the drifting remains of the vamp and peered through the dust cloud and straight at the shocked expression of a young Latina girl.

The girl's expression undoubtedly mirrored Faith's own, but it only took the space of a heartbeat before the little chiquita's face shifted to a look of wary suspicion.

Right, Faith thought, one of our little lost lambs. And she's checking me out like I'm the big bad wolf. Easy does it girl, don't frighten the kid off.

"Hi," Faith said, pocketing her stake and loosening her body posture up, "I'm Faith." She smiled and took a half step forward. "Awesome hit on that vamp. Always harder from behind, but you staked him perfectly."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her two girls take their cue from their boss and stand down as well, but Faith didn't take her attention off the kid for a minute. The little Latina was still wired, still on the defensive, but the praise had softened her somewhat and a little uncertainty had crept into her demeanor.

"So," Faith kept her voice soft and light, "self-taught huh?" When she received a wary nod in reply she kept going. "Yeah, I was the same to start with. You from around here?"

Finally the girl relaxed her stance, cautiously checking around her before replying. "Si, I live here in Eastside. So," her voice took on a more curious lilt, "you kill the vampiros too, yes?"

"Yeah, all three of us," Faith offered, nodding in the direction of the other two girls.

"So you're like some sort of," the girl paused and looked around before continuing, "gang?"

Faith could read the girl's hesitation and answered carefully, "No, not like a gang. More like a family. You live with your family?"

"Yeah, with my mama and two older brothers. But my mama, she's not really …" her voice drifted off, uncertain, a little embarrassed.

"I get ya kid, been there, done that. So I guess you're pretty good at looking out for yourself, huh? How old are you?"

"I'm fifteen. And I don't need no-one telling me what to do, telling me how to act and what to wear. I can look after myself. I might be small but I'm stronger than I look. Oh, I guess you get that?"

"Yeah, we get it. You been getting the dreams too? What about slayings? Just vampires or other demons too?"

"There are demonios?" The girl looked at Faith in awe, her desire to understand what was happening to her tearing down the last of her hesitation.

"Yeah, there's a whole big, bad world out there. Listen, we have to go now, but maybe we can hang out tomorrow. I'd love to hear about your first slaying. You in school?"

"Yeah, Roosevelt High, just a block east of here."

"If we can get clearance from your principal, you mind if we pull you outta class in the morning?"

"Oh, you can do that? That would be cool, no problem." The girl's voice rang with eagerness.

Faith smiled, their first recruitment was going well. "So we'll see you tomorrow. Oh. By the way, what's your name? Who will we ask for?"

"Oh, si, my name's Soledad."

End Notes: **Evergreen Memorial Park Cemetery** is Los Angeles' oldest cemetery. And at 67 acres, pretty damn big.


	5. Chapter 5 - Reception

**_'The moral virtues, then, are produced in us neither by nature nor against nature. Nature, indeed, prepares in us the ground for their reception, but their complete formation is the product of habit.'_**

Aristotle

Spike was bored. Due to her extra dose of crankiness, he knew Buffy was as well. The place was like a ghost town, with just about everyone out on the road.

He and Rupert had made a joint decision about his non-involvement in the Recruitment Teams. They both felt that his presence would set the baby Slayers off and confuse them at such an early stage in the conscription process, putting off more than they'd attract. And it was a shame really as he had a lot of valuable skills, not least his ability to converse fluently in most European languages.

Buffy was still feeling a bit peaky, and travel sickness on top of pregnancy nausea didn't seem like such a good idea, so she'd been left out of the teams as well. But the Action Duo were getting a little restless.

To be fair Rupes probably needed them here anyway. They'd both attended a horde of meetings. Spike had been surprised, and secretly a little thrilled, when the Boss man had offered him a seat on the Board of Watchers. He already sat on the Executive Council, along with Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Xander, Althanea, Rowan, Faith, several of the Hellmouth Slayers and several of the Surviving Watchers. Giles was determined to ensure that the decision making group was as diverse as possible; as resident vampire, he had no problem being on the Exec.

But a group made solely of Watchers? Spike's first instinct had been to turn the position down, Big Bad offended by the idea of sitting around all chummy with a bunch of Wankers. But then he'd realised how invaluable his knowledge and experience could be, a hundred years as the Slayer of Slayers and five as the thorn in Buffy's side. He'd certainly bring a unique perspective to the Board.

What's more, he could influence the future direction and responsibilities of the Watchers within the overall Amazon International organization. And that's really what the current round of meetings were all about.

As a group, the Watchers were in a crisis situation. With thousands of Slayers to find, train and deploy, the Watcher role was critical. This came at a time when they had been decimated by the First, either tracked down and slaughtered by the Bringers or blown to smithereens in the Headquarters explosion. These actions had removed more than seventy percent of active Watchers.

There were still pockets of Watchers out there. Several dozen Council staff had survived the blast, among them Hurst, Edwards and old Davis. Most of these though were clerical or administrative workers rather than actual Watchers and had already been transferred to the new offices at Bromley.

Elsewhere, they were continuing to receive reports of Field Watchers who had survived the actions of the Bringers. Some of these, like Robson, had witnessed their potentials being butchered right in front of their eyes, before escaping to safety themselves. A few had managed to hear of the impending danger and go into hiding with their Slayers before the First's minions had arrived, and by using cloaking spells and moving around a lot, had escaped the initial cull.

These men and women were coming out of the woodwork now. Some twenty odd Watchers, nine of them with their new Slayers in tow, had contacted Giles and were due to arrive next week. The girls, already trained and prepared for their roles in the scheme of things, would be invaluable. But the Watchers would be in even higher demand. Many of them, although they had trained and studied in England, were foreign nationals, repatriated to their own homelands when and if local girls were identified as potentials. This continued a tradition long established in the old Council, as the need for effective communication and rapport with the potentials became apparent.

The largest single group of surviving Watchers was stationed at Sackville College, The Watcher's Academy in nearby East Grinstead. Twenty-four first, second and third year students and six staff members, including the principal Anthony Collins (younger and less deadly brother of wetworks commander Duncan Collins), had gone into immediate lock down when news of the explosion had made it to them. It had been a traumatic time; almost all of them had lost close friends or family members in the explosion. But they had come through it unscathed and many had really stepped up a level in the months since.

The eight third year students, Matthew Morris one of them, had since graduated and the new academic year was due to start. One of the Board's jobs was to work with Collins to set out a new curriculum that would produce relevant, Twenty-first Century Watchers. The new Slayers would need men and women that were knowledgeable, adaptable, skilled, willing to follow as well as lead and not bound up in the old Council rhetoric.

Judging by the caliber of Matthew and a few of his mates, Spike didn't think that Sackville needed to undergo too many changes. Traditionally the Academy provided a three-year Masters degree, its students having already completed undergraduate degrees within the conventional university system, many of them at either Oxford or Cambridge. Competition to enter the programme was fierce, and generally only the most accomplished students were accepted.

A new and greatly increased intake, many of them from outside of the traditional families that had served the Council for centuries, would soon be selected as inaugural students in the new wave. And the Board were considering running supplementary secondary school classes as well, an option for students who wished to accompany the new junior slayers as potential future Watchers. Challenging but exciting times.

But a greater part of the Board of Watcher's current mission involved defining just what a Watcher's responsibilities would now entail. The Slayer/Watcher balance had shifted drastically and the Field Watchers needed to develop more of a team mentality if they were going to be an effective part of their squads. Communication was going to become a vital new skill.

Finally, Amazon International needed to maintain a comprehensive team of Researchers. Cecil Davis was put in charge of this team. Their two main goals were to scan, archive and catalogue all of the research books and documents: historical, mystical, and prophetical; onto a central A.I. website for easy access from anywhere in the world; and to start searching for any links to the two current prophecies, either the Song of Sagaria or the Scourge of Amroz.

They had almost no information on the Scourge, no idea of timeframe, except possibly within the next few years if they broadly interpreted the context of the Prophecy. But where, what and who was totally unknown, so research was critical.

As for the Song, the stopwatch was ticking away on it. All they could really do was wait for his and Buffy's child to be born and then carry out the Sagaria claiming ceremony, although the prophecy gave them no clues as to what that might involve.

Spike himself had contributed plenty to the discussions, but his main interest lay in building a detailed picture of an effective Watcher and getting the research around the Song in particular underway. He knew Slayers in general pretty well and Buffy even better. He'd seen what worked well in terms of Watcher support and what didn't. Some actions, he offered, with all respect to Giles, were even highly destructive to their protégés.

The first thing that had to go was the Cruciamentum, and he'd got no argument on that. None of them could see any harm in testing the Slayers, either in theoretical or physical challenges, but to deliberately endanger them to the extent of extreme jeopardy was not only brutal and archaic, but in economic terms, it was also a potential loss of valuable company resources.

Spike wanted to see the Slayers and Watchers working together in a partnership, not a mentor/pupil relationship. What the Watchers often neglected to understand was that when a Slayer was activated, along with enhanced physical skills and abilities, she received an upgrade on her ability to plan and react intuitively and instinctively. Given good training, greater headway and more backing, Spike thought Slayers capable of making superior strategic decisions.

Finally, he wanted the Watchers to consider how they were going to handle the Slayer explosion in terms of public relations. Spike felt they needed to shift away from the old layer of secrecy they'd operated under and be proactive in terms of presenting their role and mission to the world. He suggested they might need to hire image consultants to present their organization in the best possible light. The others had scoffed at that, not even certain that they needed to uncloak let alone sell themselves.

Spike's William persona had thrived on the intellectual stimulation of the Watcher's Board, so the two meetings had been no great hardship. It was a novelty to be consulted and listened to with such respect, something he'd rarely experienced in either his living or undead existences. But his demon side was restless and antsy, suffering withdrawal symptoms from the lack of action since his amulet release.

He'd sparred with Faith a few times before she'd flown out the week before, but now there were precious few Slayers around except his own true love, and until they got the go ahead from the doc, he'd refused to spar with her.

He and Buffy were seated in the living area of their suite now, waiting on the Doc's arrival. They hadn't met her before, but she was some relation of Rowan's and was seemingly in the know about the supernatural side of life, so that was a good start. Apparently she didn't usually make house calls this early in a pregnancy but Rowan had also organized her an interview with Rupert, who was looking for a reliable and experienced doctor to join their staff. A horde of Slayers could keep a medic pretty busy.

Spike had gotten much better at doing the sitting around waiting thing, but after a whole week of little more than meeting attendance, he was feeling pretty twitchy. As he looked around their gorgeous room, he decided that maybe it would be better to take his mind off the boredom by thinking about something else.

His and Buffy's first task, on arrival at Ashdown, had been to shift into their rooms in the Fairway Suites. The Suites had still been booked out when the Council had taken over Ashdown's lease, and Rupert had honored the reservations. But once they were empty, these twelve rooms had became the long-term accommodation for any resident Sunnyhell survivors or key personnel, recreating a sense of home for those who had lost their's.

They were gorgeous, luxurious and surprisingly private. Spike had, over his time traipsing round the world, found occasion to hole up in rooms of this caliber, but Buffy had never had an opportunity to live in the lap of luxury. And it was about time she got that chance – she deserved it.

Spike had gone all traditional and carried her over the threshold, figuring the suite would be the closest thing they would get to having their own place, for a while at least. She'd turned surprisingly docile and snuggled in contentedly, bright tears shimmering in her eyes as he'd stepped through the door and into the beautiful rooms that would quickly become their home.

She'd taken one look and wriggled her way down to the floor and kissed him quickly before dancing off to view all the pleasures that high quality interior decorating could produce. Spike had ambled off after her, taking his delight in the squeals of excitement and coos of joy that his girl had issued as she'd wandered through the modern, well equipped kitchenette, the lavishly appointed lounge, the sumptuous bathroom, complete with a massive multi jetted shower and sunken spa bath, and through into the opulent bedroom where he'd discovered his little minx spread out naked on the king size bed, ready to christen the suite in her own way.

Spike had quickly shed his own clothing and crawled onto the bed, both enthralled and aroused by the glistening goddess sprawled beneath him. He could sense and smell her desire, as he'd knelt over her on all fours, and had had to fight hard to keep his demon below the surface, the longing to possess and mark her clawing at his self-control.

Buffy had giggled and slid her lean legs up around his hips, dragging his pelvis down to hers. His aching, tumescent cock had pressed into the heat of her groin and they'd both groaned as he'd begun sliding back and forth along her wet slit, his head and shaft dragging across her throbbing clit. His hips continued to plunge backwards and forwards as he'd leant down to devour her mouth in a passionate kiss. Buffy had lifted her legs even higher and slipped her hands down to Spike's butt, stroking and massaging his gluts, pushing and pulling in time with his thrusts.

Cradled by her fleshy lips, his hard prick had been slick with her hot nectar, and the feelings triggered by their grinding so intense that, as Buffy had reached her peak, he'd had to stop and take several long slow breaths to keep from shooting all over her belly. But as much as they'd both enjoyed the frottage, for their first time in their new home Spike had wanted to come inside her.

Having calmed down enough to avert a hasty finish, Spike had drawn himself back through the swollen folds of her quim, pressing down firmly enough to squeeze his knob against her still sensitive button. At the furthest point of his backstroke, he'd grabbed his shaft and, never losing contact with Buffy's sodden flesh, slid down until he was aligned with her opening.

This time his forward stroke had led him directly into the tight, wet heat of her glorious cunny. Oh God,_this_bliss was his real home, buried here deep inside her body. He'd known he wouldn't last long, and that last stroke down through her vulva, combined with the sudden thrust into her stimulated sheath, had also put Buffy right on the edge again. Plunging in and out of her slippery depths, Spike had leant forward again to whisper in her ear.

"That's it baby, come for me. Let me feel you squeeze my cock. Show me how much you love me pet. Oh Buffy, oh sweetheart, I love you. I'm gonna come baby, you're making me come. Come with me Buffy."

He'd nuzzled into her neck instinctively, licking and sucking the silvery scars of his bite, and her response was fierce and instantaneous. She'd exploded, her powerful internal muscles spasming violently around him, pulling him over the edge into a convulsive explosion of light and colour. Deep within her body he had felt himself spending, his warm cum pulsing within her, flooding her core as she'd continued to milk him.

Finally they had collapsed, bodies replete with exhaustion and satisfaction. Spike had rolled onto his side, bringing Buffy with him. They'd wrapped themselves around one another and spent the next half hour sharing gentle kisses and sweet words of adoration, mutually pleased with their choice of house-warming celebration.

Spike jolted as he came back to himself, no longer bored but now with a different problem to, ah, solve. Casually, he straightened his shirt and buttoned the bottom half up, hoping the loose fabric would cover his aching erection. Damn, how'd he get himself into these situations. Now he was restless_and_extremely uncomfortable.

Buffy didn't look much better, but undoubtedly for a different reason. She was nervously sitting on the edge of the couch, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs. Spike sighed and tried to rein his libido in. Time for best boyfriend mode he reckoned, as he slipped his arm around Buffy's shoulders and pulled her against him. The contact immediately calmed both of them, and they were both much more relaxed by the time a knock sounded on the door five minutes later.

Spike got up to let their visitors in, checking his shirt again to make sure he was decent.

He opened the door to Rowan, his and Buffy's own little personal crystal ball, her face lit up by an infectious grin.

Behind her stood a petite, fine-featured woman. Her dark hair was shot through with thick bands of intense violet and styled in a wispy, pixie-cut. Her wide set, warm brown eyes sparkled with curiosity and possibly a touch of mischief. She was dressed casually in faded jeans, black boots and a fitted black tee that bore the head shots of four guys beneath a stylized logo proclaiming the name 'Skids'.

Spike's eyebrows rose in surprise as he recognized the logo of the Scottish punk band and tried to reconcile the woman's appearance with her occupation. He nodded at Rowan before he ushered her and the doc into the room and over to the lounge suite where Buffy was standing nervously.

Finally remembering his manners, Spike stepped forward and held out his hand.

"Morning Doc," he said firmly, "I'm Spike, or William if you'd prefer, and this is Buffy. We're pleased to meet you."

The woman smiled back at them and returned Spike's handshake before offering Buffy a similar greeting.

"I'm Dr Catriona McNair, but please just call me Cat." The woman's soft Scottish burr betrayed her nationality. "Please excuse our tardiness, but I've just met with your good leader and I guess we forgot the time. Our 'discussions' went on wee bit I guess you could say." The doctor's eyes twinkled with mirth and she had to cough into her hand to control an impending outbreak of giggles.

Buffy and Spike looked at each other in confusion, while Rowan rolled her eyes and frowned.

"Never mind me," the doctor grinned, "a tale for another time I think." She shook her head then threw her shoulders back before adopting a more subdued expression. "Ah now, to business, ya must think me slightly addled, but there's just something about that man that…" Dr McNair trailed off and shook herself once more. "But really, I'm verra excited about supporting ya through this pregnancy Buffy and Spike. It's an honour really. Come, let's get comfortable and start."

Everyone took a seat and the doctor popped her antique black leather bag on the ground.

"So how does this work Dr McNair?" Buffy asked, a touch of anxiety threading through her voice. "I just don't know anything about pregnancy or what I'm supposed to do or expect to be feeling." She smiled gratefully up at Spike as he wrapped an arm around her and dropped a kiss on her forehead.

"First of all, its Cat remember, I'm not much of one for standing on ceremony, so I'm more comfortable with first names." She waited until Spike and Buffy had nodded their agreement before continuing on. "Now I know this pregnancy is pretty unique. Rowan told me a little about the special circumstances surrounding the conception of this wee one, and I know that may be some cause for anxiety. But most of what you're feeling is what every young couple experience when faced with the amazing, thrilling, life-changing and terrifying reality of being responsible for nurturing a new life."

Buffy and Spike looked at one another before letting out the breaths they were each holding, unnecessarily in Spike's case, grinned nervously and nodded.

"Reckon you've got us pinned Doc, ah Cat, and that's good enough for us, so point us in the right direction."

"All right, good. And just so you know, I'm currently working in the Emergency Department at Princess Royal Hospital in Haywards Heath, but I'm a qualified Obstetrician and I spent five years in their obstetrics department and still have access to their facilities when I need them. Okay, now this is what is known as your booking appointment in the U.K. I've got a raft of forms for you to fill out so that we can work out things like your due date and family medical history."

"S'gonna be interesting pet, what with me being born in the 19th Century. Don't know how much of my family history'll be relevant anyways, too much water under the bridge."

"You'd be surprised Spike. If what my niece tells me is correct, and mystical forces managed to reanimate your own sperm, then we could very well be looking at William's gene pool pure and simple, no matter how many years since he was born and died. After all, even undead, your body cells must still carry the blueprint of your DNA."

"How do you figure that pet?" Despite himself, Spike was hooked. Balanced on the edge of the seat he was eagerly trying to follow Cat's train of thought.

"Well, I'm no expert, but it seems that when a vampire is wounded, he or she is able to accurately reproduce the damaged cells in much the same way that a living human can, although much more efficiently from what I understand. The DNA of the host body lies dormant in each cell, ready to divide and proliferate, replacing damaged bone or tissue rapidly when needed. Although the cells aren't alive in a biological sense, they're inactive really rather than dead. Vampires after all look and move like the humans they once were, unlike zombies whose bodies really are dead."

"Thank goodness for that," Buffy shuddered as she screwed up her nose.

"So it seems to me Spike, that your body is doing everything that it did before you were turned, but in a stop-start fashion instead of continuously. Your cells are inactive until activated by injury, and your life force is mystical not biological – hence the lack of aging – if your cells aren't living and aging then neither are you. So normally, when you release semen, it contains sperm but they are inactive or dormant just like your other cells. It took a mystical power source to activate them, but they should carry a perfect little blueprint of your DNA."

"Yes, go me," Buffy yelled, punching the air with her fist. "I might have flunked Biology my senior year but I still got the mystery of our miraculous conception right." Spike sat next to her looking chuffed.

"Right, enough of the physiology lesson. Let's get onto the good stuff." Cat opened her bag up and pulled out several sheets of paper, which she passed to Spike, her stethoscope, which she hooked around her neck, and a Blackberry PDA. "Buffy, I'm going to take your blood pressure, then draw down some blood. There are a raft of tests to get done and believe it or not none of them relate to being a vampire."

Cat moved over to sit next to Buffy so she could begin administering her tests while Spike drifted over to the table to begin filling in his sections of the paperwork. He was in a very contemplative mood, the doc's musings setting him to wondering about the baby, meeting Buffy, vampirism and the meaning of his existence in general. Pretty heavy navel-gazing for a Wednesday afternoon.

Rowan had slipped through to the kitchen to pop on the kettle, and was now setting up a pot of tea and a plate of treats on the table for afternoon tea. She wandered through to chat to Cat as Buffy headed off to the bathroom with a small container in her hand.

The two McNairs had made their way through to Spike, Cat with her PDA and a small booklet in her hand. They sat down at the table and when she'd finished entering Buffy's results, both in the booklet and on her Blackberry, Cat smiled at Spike.

"How's the form filling going Sassenach?"

"Oi you cheeky wench, don't forget that despite this youthful exterior I'm your elder and to be respected. Besides which, I've not been tame long enough to have forgotten the rich, smooth taste of a bonny Scots lassie's blood. Goes down a treat on an chilly Glaswegian evening, if I recall." He gave her his patented Spike smirk, eyebrow tilt, tongue roll and all.

Buffy caught the last part of Spike's monologue as she came through the door. "Hey," she growled, "watch it Big Bad, don't go scaring our baby doctor off."

Cat laughed, the warm sound filling the room. "Och, it'll take more than his bree tung to scare this canny lass. Now, lets take a spot o' tea while you fill out your life story for me." She passed the forms Spike had finished with over to Buffy, who started scribbling away.

Once she'd finished, Cat passed Buffy a small bottle of pregnancy vitamins and a prescription for more once she'd finished them. She looked over Buffy's dates and worked out her due date.

"Okay, by my estimate you're 11 ½ weeks pregnant so provided this pregnancy runs the normal gestational length, you'll be due around the 15th February." She scribbled something into the little booklet. "So next week you're due for your 12 week scan and all of your test results will be back by then too. We can do the scan at Princess Royal. Hayward Heath's only about 14 kilometres down the road, so it'll take nae tyme a'tall. We'll make it in the forenicht, ah I mean evening, if you like, so it's easier for Spike to get around."

Spike looked at Buffy before clearing his throat. "Actually pet, looks like that niece of yours didn't get to tell you the full tale of this here vamp. Seems I'm no longer afflicted with the sun allergy I once was, quite convenient actually."

Cat's eyes popped open in astonishment. "Really, its seems there's more to this fairy tale than I could guess. Well that's a story for another time. Alright, let's make it ten o'clock on Wednesday morning then. Your pre-visit instructions are in this booklet Buffy, along with all of your baseline measurements. Bring it with you each time we meet." She stood up and started moving towards the door.

"Ah, before you go Cat," Buffy asked, a sheepish expression on her face, "How do you feel about pregnant women sparring against semi-vampiric men and young, untrained slayerettes?"

"Hmmm, I'd normally say no, but I guess you're not my normal sort of patient. As long as you take it easy, no direct contact anywhere in the abdominal region and avoid lifting anything too ridiculously heavy," she eyed Spike up at this point, "then I'd say go ahead, at least for the next two months. We'll review things after that."

With that Cat breezed out the door and the parents-to-be were left there, bemusedly contemplating the suddenly very real direction their lives heading in.

End Notes: **Princess Royal Hospital** is an acute, teaching, general hospital located in Haywards Heath, West Sussex, England, about 22 minutes SW of Ashdown.


	6. Chapter 6 - Baggage

**_Author Notes: _**This little chapter is Giles-centric, and warning, if sexy Giles squicks you, then you'll need to block your eyes and ears. Btw, apologies for the late post, had a long, tiring, busy, busy week. Thanks also to mom8828 for her reviews. Please leave me a few words if you like/don't like : )

**_ '_****_It is up to my spirit to find the truth. But how? Grave uncertainty, each time the spirit feels beyond its own comprehension; when it, the explorer, is altogether to obscure land that it must search and where all its baggage is of no use.'_**

_Marcel Proust_

Giles sighed as he pulled his car into the courtyard outside his suite. The elegant block of rooms, set slightly to the west of the main buildings, presently housed most of his nearest and dearest. Buffy and Spike, Dawn, Willow, Xander and when they were around, Andrew, Faith and Kennedy. As such, the inhabitants had formally replaced the official name 'Fairway Suites' with a more fitting sobriquet – 'Sunnydale Lodge' and informally with the more irritating label, 'Scoobyville'.

It was late, he was tired and a little distracted, and he'd undoubtedly missed dinner, but the light spilling out of the Lodge filled his weary body with warmth, and satisfied a hunger that food could never fulfill. His weeks were crazy at the moment, the days so filled with demands on his time that he felt washed out and stretched thin.

But coming to this place made him feel, for the first time in his life, like a father arriving home at the end of a hard day's work. It re-energised him and gave everything a sense of purpose. This was his home, and inside, those people were his family.

Each set of rooms was self-contained, with its own living area and kitchen facilities. But in the evening they tended to gather in the attached lounge room of the former Country Club, share a meal, talk about their day, watch TV – things that a regular family did.

Grabbing his briefcase off the passenger seat, Giles clambered out of the car. And a very nice car it was too, he mused, a sleek silver 2002 BMW 3 Series E46. A company perk, and a damn sight better than anything he'd ever driven before. Still, he needed it with the mileage he'd been putting in.

He'd just finished his working day with a one hour journey south down the A22 from Amazon's Administration Centre in Bromley, grateful at least that it was Friday and tomorrow he could be based at Ashdown instead of heading to Bromley. The last few weeks he'd been able to cut those trips down to two a week, a vast improvement on the three or four he was doing over the first month since he'd taken control of the helm in May.

Just in time too! Things here at Ashdown were really winding up; in ten days time, with the arrival of the first wave of Slayer Trainees, all hell would break loose. Well, not literally hell, Giles mused. After all, what was that saying? Been there, done that!

He shook his head and grimaced slightly at the memory of the hormonal nightmare that had overrun the Summers' household earlier in the year. But as he stepped through the door into the lounge, calls of welcome settled around his shoulders like a warm blanket. From Xander's "Hey Dad's home" and Spike's "Rupert" to Willow's "Hi Giles", Rowan's "Hey Uncle Giles" and Buffy and Dawn's more demonstrative hugs, Dawn's extra squeeze marking her return home from LA that morning. Yeah, it was worth it, and he'd do anything to keep his little family safe and happy.

Willow and Rowan bustled around, getting out cutlery and popping his dinner in the microwave while Spike poured him a scotch. Then they all joined him at the table, talking and squabbling and laughing as Giles ate. Finally, plate clean and glass empty, he opened up his briefcase and grabbed his laptop. He still couldn't believe he'd succumbed to the pressure of using one, but he had to admit now that he could navigate his way around the more basic functions, it had come in very useful.

He began by checking his emails. Each of the Recruitment Teams had taken a laptop with them and were staying at hotels with internet access. Each evening they emailed in their progress reports. One week down and the results were astounding.

"What are we starting with first Giles?" Willow asked. These little informal Scooby meetings had started up the day after they'd shifted into the Lodge, and Willow had become their unofficial secretary.

"I thought we'd go over the Team reports for this week and see what sort of numbers we'll be dealing with and discuss any sort of problems that might have cropped up."

Willow nodded and opened up the folder in front of her. Finding the papers she needed, she began handing them out.

Everyone flicked through the reports, their favorable remarks reflecting the generally positive progress the teams were making. They had found and recruited 66 out of the 68 girls identified in this week's target areas. One of the girls they'd missed had been only 13 and her parents felt she was too young too join the programme but had agreed to reconsider it the following year.

"I like this idea of Faith's, taking the team out on a patrol each evening." Buffy commented. "It's good for morale and helps balance out the sitting and talking side of the day. And you get to check out the sights at the same time."

"Yeah, what a great tourism venture that would be – 'Great Cemeteries of the World – The Moonlight Tour'. Crowds will be flocking." Xander said. "Still it's a good idea. Maybe you could email the other teams and suggest they do the same."

"A few problems though, I see." Willow said.

"One girl we'll need to keep our eye on is this Genevieve chick, sounds like she could be trouble," Buffy noted.

"I'm sure she'll be fine pet. Just needs a gentle hand and a bit of acceptance no doubt."

"The only other significant issue seems to be with 25 year old Dana Strassberg." Rupert paused, a worried look on his face as everyone turned back to Faith's report. "Dawn, maybe you could fill us in on a little more detail seeing as you've just been out there."

"Sure Giles. Dana's life has been tragic. She was just a little girl, only ten, when she witnessed her family's murders and then spent months being tortured and God knows what else by some psychopath. She was utterly traumatized by the events and has never recovered. She's been a patient at Gateways Hospital and Mental Health Centre ever since."

"God, how horrible," Willow shuddered.

"And now she's a Slayer?" Spike's voice held a mix of sympathy and horror.

"Yeah, Ashton and I had identified her not long after we landed. She was the easiest to pick up on – a totally stationary signal day and night. Faith and Ashton made the preliminary visit, found that she was a long-term patient and spoke to her doctor. During the day she seemed placid enough, non communicative, but manageable. But Dana's nights were often broken by terrible nightmares. The staff always assumed that the trauma of her past haunted her. But one of the nurses Faith spoke to showed them dozens of drawings she'd done, always in the days following her dreams. Pictures of monsters and demons and often a girl fighting them."

"Oh my God," Buffy gasped. "She was having slayer dreams."

"Yeah," Dawn continued, "it seems so. Then, the doctor reported, about two months ago she started becoming more agitated, more violent. Even though she'd been on a cocktail of sedatives since she first came to them, she's become almost impossible to restrain. They've had to up her meds, but its not calming her. They've had to move her to the maximum security ward and they're worried about what could go wrong."

"We have to do something Giles," Buffy exclaimed tearfully. "We can't leave her in there like that. The thought of her in that place …" She shuddered and they all knew she was recalling her own experiences in psychiatric care.

"I agree Buffy," Giles said, "but I just don't see how we can help her. You heard what Dawn said; she's suffering from some form of attenuated state of psychosis. We're not trained for this kind of work."

"I don't know Giles," Buffy said, a frown on her face. "What if we were able to get through to her, break through the fog? Maybe we could guide her back towards life."

"I don't know what you think we can do that fifteen years worth of psychiatric support hasn't managed to achieve. But I suppose, as a Slayer, she is our responsibility now. One thing's for certain, we can't leave her where she is. They're not equipped to deal with the inhuman strength this girl now possesses." Giles paused, deep in thought. "It might be best to bring her back here, keep her sedated and find somewhere secure to confine her. Damn, I'm going to have to think again about employing that bloody wench of a doctor," he muttered, half to himself.

"Maybe we can do more than that," Willow offered. "Do you remember when Buffy was in that catatonic state after Glory had snatched Dawn? Remember how I was able to enter her sub conscience psychically, and ass kick her mopey self?"

"Hey," Buffy pouted, "I was feeling overwhelmed and guilty and depressed and … right, mopey. But I had cause."

"Yes you did Buffy." Giles agreed. "And so does Dana. But I don't think it follows that you'll automatically be able to work your caring, compassionate, ah …ass-kicking skills on such a severely damaged stranger Willow. It could even be dangerous."

"Oh, I don't think so, well not dangerous in a physical sense anyway. My body wouldn't actually be there." Willow paused. "But in a psychological sense, yeah it could be pretty traumatizing. It's possible I'd end up witnessing all the horrors that Dana experienced as a child. I can imagine that that could be a hundred times worse than anything Wes Craven could come up with. But throughout the whole process I'd still be conscious and aware, able to talk to and comfort Dana, explain to her that the bad things are over now and that she's safe."

"Well, maybe its worth looking at," Giles conceded. "Let me think about it."

"Actually Uncle Rupert," Rowan's quiet voice piped up from where she sat on the couch next to Xander. If Willow doesn't mind, I'd like to try this with her."

"No, Rowan," Xander interjected, "Why? It's too dangerous."

"Xander, you've just sat here, along with everyone else, and listened to Willow explain that the dangers are only psychological, emotional. I know I'm a little younger than most of you, but I'm not a child. In fact, I _was_ only a very young child myself when I began dream-witnessing the gruesome sights and sounds of the Hellmouth Battle, and I handled that." Rowan paused and took Xander's hand. "Besides which, I think this is something I'm supposed to do. We all contribute those talents we have. Well this is my talent."

Xander starred at her for a time, then drew her forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. He smiled and turned to Willow. "So what do you say Mr Spock? Are you ready to pass on the closely guarded secrets of the Vulcan mind-meld?"

"Yep," Willow grinned back. "Beam us up Scotty."

They'd packed it in after that. It was late, everyone was tired and tomorrow was another day. Giles had poured himself another small scotch and wandered across the courtyard to his suite. He wasn't quite ready to turn in yet. The discussion about Dana's possible removal to Ashdown had re-emphasized AI's need for a qualified medic. Treating the sorts of injuries that Slayers received required a highly specialized and trustworthy individual.

The Watcher's Council had always trained and employed their own medical personnel, but the current staff had all been killed in the explosion. Giles was looking for someone who was not only an experienced and well-qualified emergency physician, but also familiar with the supernatural world, and prepared to consider mystical or mixed medical/mystical treatment options where necessary. And now, with Buffy's pregnancy, he was seeking someone with obstetric experience as well.

It was a pretty tall ask. The position had only been advertised by word of mouth and so far they'd had only two applicants. Dr. John Galloway would have been fine, but he was pushing 65 and Giles was pretty certain he wouldn't be able to keep up with the on the job demands. So that just left that annoying Scots chit, Catriona McNair.

Of course she was eminently qualified for the role. She was not only a highly regarded practitioner, currently in charge of the Emergency Department at Princess Royal Hospital, but she also came from a long-standing Council family. Both her brother and father had been watchers, while her mother and paternal and maternal grandfathers had been doctors. In fact old Dr. McNair had been the Council medic for 30 years up until his death.

And to top it off, she'd done her residency in obstetrics. The bloody job was written for her.

Both Gareth Robson and Buffy had added their stamps of approval; he was the only hold out. The woman just plain irritated him.

Theoretically, it should have helped that she was not only the aunty of his goddaughter but also the little sister of his long deceased best friend. But in practice, the history they shared was more of a negative.

The first time Giles had met her had been at Mac and Celeste's wedding. He was Mac's best man and 13 year old Catriona, ten years younger than her handsome big brother, was the bridesmaid.

A skinny, awkward, brunette, teeth done up in a full set of braces, Catriona wasn't the most eye-catching 13 year old. Not that he'd found her loathsome or anything. Just that he hadn't really noticed her at all. But she'd noticed him all right.

It quickly became obvious, as the reception wound up into full swing, that little Catriona had a crush on him. If he'd been a little wiser to the ways of the world, or even just a little bit less of a self centered prat, he would have been flattered by the young girl's attentions and treated her with gentle affection or even a little mild flirtation. It would undoubtedly have boasted her teenage self-esteem no end.

But instead, confusion, anxiety and his own hormones guided his actions. A rather fetching lass, well into her twenties judging by the size of her endowments, caught his eye. He'd spent most of the evening trolling after her, and had finally ended up achieving some moderate success, snogging her under the stairs.

Catriona, on her way to the toilet, had caught them out when, leaning on the cupboard door too enthusiastically, they had tumbled out of their hidey-hole and landed on the ground at the young girl's feet.

Giles' shirt had been untucked (thank goodness, as it hid the fact that his zipper was also down), there was lipstick smeared across his face, and worst of all, the lass' lacy knickers were adorning his head. Catriona had gasped and she and Giles had locked eyes before she turned bright red, burst into tears and fled the scene.

Well that had pretty much put paid to any further action for Giles that night. Not only had the bombshell's hitherto unmentioned _fiancé _(a cousin of Celeste's) threatened to knock his block off before dragging his unrepentant girlfriend out the door, but Giles had also ended up feeling slightly guilty for his rather cavalier treatment of Mac's little sister.

It had weighed on his mind quite a bit over the years and he'd decided to apologize to her the next time he saw her. But for one reason or another the right occasion had never cropped up.

They'd come close to crossing paths at Rowan's blessing and naming ceremony. Both Giles and Catriona were asked to stand as the baby's Guardian's and had both eagerly accepted the honor. But at the last minute Catriona had come down with a bad case of glandular fever and had to make her oath at a later date.

So it was that the only other time Giles had ever seen Catriona was at Mac and Celeste's funerals. It had been seven years after their first meeting and he hadn't recognized her at first. When Althanea pointed her out to him, he'd been astonished at the beauty she'd blossomed into. In fact he'd probably gone on to act a little bit inappropriately given the tragic occasion, frequently staring at her across the aisle of the church, and later as she wept by her brother's graveside.

The only time he'd managed to catch her eye, she'd looked right through him. He'd had no idea if that look represented a lack of recognition or an aloof disdain, but her subsequent early departure meant he never did get to find out. He also never got to apologize for his boorish and inconsiderate behavior of so many years previous.

So, it was fair to say there was some baggage between them. Of course Giles had recognized the name on her C.V. as soon as it landed on his desk. He'd followed her career over the years, well just in a general sense of course, casually asking Althanea from time to time what Catriona was up to. And he guessed she must have known that he was the one holding the reins now at the newly reconfigured Council. So theoretically there shouldn't have been any surprises for either of them when she'd turned up to the interview yesterday.

But that's certainly not how it played out. When she walked into his office, he could hardly breathe, such a mixture of surprise, confusion, disapproval, irritation and violent, passionate attraction hit him at once that he was at a total loss at what to do with himself.

It had started the minute she'd walked through the door. She was dressed down in holey jeans and an old band t-shirt, her gamine haircut was streaked with shocking purple, her elfin features adorned with little more than a slash of magenta lip gloss and a smudge of black eyeliner. Giles was taken aback by her; this punk princess, so different from the sweet, little girl he remembered. He was unsure what message she was trying to give him.

Confused and a little annoyed at what he saw as inappropriate attire for a professional job interview, he was even more unsettled by the lightning-strike frisson of awareness that sizzled his senses when she reached out and firmly grasped his welcoming hand in hers.

It had temporarily shorted out his circuits and he'd had to resort to autopilot for the next few minutes. Long enough for him to realize he'd missed something vital in her opening remarks. His confusion was obvious, as too was the realization that she was making fun of him in some way. Giles did what he so often did in moments of pressure, resorted to his pompous, arrogant persona.

That had set her off even more, her giggling, quick-witted disrespect more than a match for his snappy, supercilious disregard. If truth be told, she'd made him feel like a gauche schoolboy. Oh how the tables had been turned since that long ago wedding.

Sitting here now, he couldn't remember a word of their conversation, just the emotions that the encounter had invoked. The fury he'd felt when he slammed the door behind her retreating figure, the shame that had washed over him not five minutes later, the embarrassment at how foolish he must have seemed. And roaring through the whole lot, a deep hungering lust, so intense and overwhelming that he'd had to pull his achingly hard dick out right there in his office. Three swift strokes later and he'd spilled into his handkerchief like a teenager.

By evening he'd been hard again and had had to seek release twice before he could relax enough to sleep. His dreams last night had been full of her and now, his cock was throbbing once again, her power over him so intense.

Giles sighed and tipped back his glass, swallowing the last mouthful of scotch. God, there was no way he could work with the woman, he'd have no control over his mind, his emotions or his bloody libido whenever they were in the same room. Yet she was the best person for the job. And she was going to be around any way; she was Rowan's auntie and Buffy's obstetrician.

Maybe if he appointed her, he could try to be elsewhere during her working hours, make sure they set the clinic up at the other end of the building from his offices. Or maybe if he tried to meet up with her, apologize and try and sort out some of their issues from the past.

Either way, now that they Dana to deal with, they'd need a doctor pretty quickly. He resolved to call Catriona tomorrow. Or maybe Monday. Yes, Monday would be better.

Shaking his head in embarrassment and disbelief, he flicked off the lights in the lounge and wandered through to his bedroom, the rampant dick in his trousers signaling that he still had a task to perform before he'd be able to settle to sleep that night.


	7. Chapter 7 - Reflection

**_'Of what significance the light of day, if it is not the reflection of an inward dawn?—to what purpose is the veil of night withdrawn, if the morning reveals nothing to the soul? It is merely garish and glaring.'_**

_Henry David Thoreau_

Xander rolled over and swiped his left hand in the general direction of the alarm, the shrill noise having jarred him from a deep sleep. He lay there for a while, drifting in and out of a doze. Finally, blearily, he opened one eye, seeking out the green glow of the clock's LED numbers. The room was still blanketed in the thick, inky darkness of predawn. He frowned; it was Saturday morning, he thought, and his sleep-muddled brain struggled to reconcile his regular weekend wake up time with the obvious lack of light.

Confused, he searched again for the clock's glow. To no avail, the darkness around him remained complete. For a split second Xander panicked, fear driving a stake into his guttering heart, his brain screaming a terrified chant, "I'm blind, blind, blind!"

He pushed up off the bed with his arms till he came to a halt, kneeling in a tangle of bedclothes. The sunlight creeping in around the curtains and the mocking light emitted by the clock, quickly extinguished his anxiety.

Damn, second day running he'd woken up with his good eye snuggled face down in the pillow, the empty socket of his left eye assigned the hopeless task of greeting the day. Sighing, he rolled back over, fitting big spoon like against the curve of Rowan's back. He nuzzled into her hair, his good eye now clear of its blindfold and free to travel around the room.

Whew, not blind. Or at least only half blind, he thought.

It was quite light in the room; the sun had obviously been up for a while. He'd set the alarm for 7.30, so it was probably not much past that. In his blind panic, he'd forgotten to check the time. He wondered how long it would take before his brain caught up with the reality of his loss. It had been months now since Caleb had carried out his handiwork, but in his dreams, he could still see out of both eyes. And each morning when he awoke, it still took a moment or two before he remembered why he could only see half the room.

He sighed and snuggled up against the tiny girl who slept so peacefully in his bed. She was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. After the Hellmouth, after Anya, he hadn't expected to find love again, so quickly, or so well. But here she was.

She was stunning, pretty rather than beautiful, but with the likelihood of heading that way as she got older. And she was sweet and kind and caring and patient. She reminded him of Tara in some ways. More confident, but just as sweet.

He'd plucked up the courage to mention it to Willow last week. She'd stared off into the distance for a while, then smiled at him and said, "That's because she has the same sort of energy as Tara, and I think she practices magic in the same way. She's very connected to the Earth, just like Tara. She's a lovely girl Xander. I think she could make you very happy."

Mind you, Xander wouldn't have gone after her. It was too soon for one thing, and he was still filled with grief and guilt and anger and doubt, and badly in need of some space to heal.

And Rowan seemed totally out of his league for another, although that was something he was trying to sort out in his head these days, both his poor self esteem and this unreasonable need he seemed to have to categorize people as either too good or not good enough to be with someone else. In fact, he was beginning to question his ability to read people or situations at all. So much for being the one who 'sees and knows'. Becoming one-eyed was ironic given that he often only saw one side of an issue anyway. So yeah, he was working on that.

Finally, Xander thought Rowan was a bit young. Well not too young, obviously. She was almost nineteen. But maybe she just seemed young because sometimes he felt so very, very old.

Anyway, they'd all seemed valid reasons at the time not to go after the girl. But he hadn't needed to. She'd reached out to him, her insight and healing nature telling her that here was someone that needed tending to. And she'd given him that; care, compassion, empathy, understanding, peace and tranquility. She'd given him a safe place to just be, a place to heal.

Not that she let him mope or moan or fester in his anger or bitterness. She made him consider life's positives, challenged his judgments and misconceptions, and tempered his thoughtlessness. But she did all of this from a position of unconditional acceptance and concern. It felt a bit like being wrapped up in a warm, loving blanket of cotton wool.

She also got him to examine his upbringing and the way it had impacted on who he was today. It wasn't a pretty picture. He'd hated the vision that the demon at his and Ahn's disastrous non-wedding had shown him, the dark glimpse of future Xander, a replica of his drunken, belligerent father, and Ahn speaking his Mom's words. But he really hadn't considered until Rowan pointed it out to him, that it might be possible to change so that he didn't become that person.

If he had realized that on the day of the wedding… well who knows? But instead he'd been weighed down by the inevitability of it all, convinced that he was saving Anya, and himself, from a future of grief and distress.

But now Rowan had made him consider the fact you could be a good person, but get bogged down with judgmental thoughts and actions. She was trying to get him to see issues from at least two angles, and think before he opened his big mouth. So yeah, a work in progress, but still.

Xander's relationship with Rowan had been one of friendship to begin with, nurturing and healing. It had only become romantic three weeks after they'd got back from LA, and they'd not slept with one another until two nights ago, the slow transition from friends to lovers a startling contrast to how his relationship with Anya had begun. This felt better, the foundation solid and carefully built on. And the sex was no less exciting. Less kinky perhaps, but breathtaking nonetheless. More connected, more satisfying, he realized.

So now they were a couple, effectively working together and living together. During the day, Rowan helped him with the plans and preparations needed to get the new Slayers housed and settled in.

There was an enormous amount of work to do before the girls arrived, the first in a week's time. If the Recruitment Teams were as successful over the next few weeks as they had been last week, then they were looking at around seventy girls per week for the next three weeks, with possibly the same number again during the first two weeks of September.

Xander and Rowan had reorganized the suites in both the East and West wings of the main building. They'd pulled the queen-size beds and lounge furniture out of all the rooms and replaced them with four or five singles. Any conference rooms situated amongst the bedrooms had been turned into large dormitories. They'd turned every fourth suite into communal living areas and also provided spaces in the dormitories for relaxing and for studying. All up, they would be able to accommodate up to 500 girls in the main house.

Xander had also been put in charge of staff recruitment. A skeleton staff had been kept on following the Hotel purchase. They'd had to let the restaurant's Cordon Bleu trained head chef go, but they had retained two of the kitchen staff, a local couple, Dave and Annette, who had been working the hotel kitchens for the past ten years. They had handled all of the meals over the past two months, but with the expected increase in numbers, they were going to need more help.

Likewise with the cleaning and ground staff. They'd only held on to two women out of a crew of ten housemaids and only one of the gardeners. Xander had helped interview the Hotel staff and they'd had to question each worker carefully to determine whether or not they could be discreet about the goings on of Ashdown's new residents. The staff they'd retained had all proven their worth, and were about to be offered management positions, modest salary increases and the opportunity to help Xander select their new team members.

The first interviews were set for this morning, which meant Xander had to get up and get ready. But Rowan was stirring, sleepily pushing her buttocks back against his morning erection, and he thought maybe he could afford another 20 minutes. He pulled her closer; thankful for this window of time they could share together. She'd slipped into his life so easily, that he wasn't looking forward to the end of summer and the resumption of her classes.

This would be Rowan's second year at med school. She was studying at Brighton and Sussex and was one of their inaugural students, the School being only in its second year. The campus was based at Falmer, just out of Brighton, only a 40-minute trip south of Ashdown. During the school year, which was only a month away, she lived on campus. She'd promised to come up on the weekends, but in the mean time he'd decided to make the most of their together time.

He felt her wriggling gain momentum and she turned towards him. Xander took her in his arms and kissed her awake. What a great way to start the day!

Willow woke up feeling hot and bothered. She'd been dreaming, the naughty sort of dreaming. Hence the hot. And quite apart from the fact that she was alone in her bed, with no-one to help her sort out her horniness, of greater concern was the fact that her dream hadn't even been about Kennedy.

Her girlfriend was presently traipsing around Barcelona, she, Rona, Caridad and Robin spending the day catching the sights and chilling out before flying to Zurich in the morning. They'd had a great week, finding and signing up all sixteen girls that had been identified on the Iberian Peninsula. Both Caridad and Kennedy herself spoke fluent Spanish, undoubtedly a huge advantage on the Recruitment drive. Switzerland and Italy would be more challenging with only Kennedy's 8th Grade German and an Italian phrase book to help out.

Willow and Kennedy had kept in regular touch since the teams had flown out a week earlier, either emailing or ringing one another each day. Kennedy kept the witch up to date with their successes and stories of the girls they'd met. Willow was envious in a way. It wasn't exactly a holiday, but many of the girls they were looking for lived in the most beautiful and renowned cities in the world, so the recruiters couldn't help but see some of the sights.

Still, Willow reasoned, her role here right now was vital, and undoubtedly she'd get a chance to do some sight seeing/slayer tracking later on. But for now, she was in charge of setting up the curriculum for the Slayer Academy that was to be run out of the converted chapel. The previous owners had sectioned the building's vaulted space up into six different rooms, the largest of which was big enough for a lecture hall, while the others were all classroom sized.

Classes would start in six weeks and in that time she had to register with the Department of Education, organize an Ofsted inspection of the grounds, and crucially, apply to the Government for recognition of their status as an Academy. If successful, they could attract public funding, which would cover not only teacher's salaries, but also equipment and resources.

The Board wanted the girls to complete their schooling with recognized credentials so that they could go onto tertiary training if they wished. So covering all the bases was essential. She needed to finalize core curriculum subjects, and employ teachers who were not only well qualified and available on short notice, but sympathetic to the 'special character' of their learning institution.

She, Giles and Anthony Collins, the principal of the Watcher's Academy, Sackville College, had their first big meeting on Monday. Two bigwigs from the Department were coming to do a walk through and discuss their progress. She was nervous. A lot depended on the outcome.

There was a lot to do and a lot to focus on. Which was good really, as it kept her mind off the Kennedy situation.

Their relationship was definitely on the chilly side these days; it had been ever since they got back from LA. Kennedy had not been impressed with the re-introduction of Oz into Willow's life. It seemed to play up all of her insecurities and she'd become jealous and resentful. For some reason, instead of rushing to assure her, Willow had instead become aloof, the irritation she felt at Kennedy's petty behavior, somehow fuelling a hidden well of resentment and boredom.

Because, if the truth be known, she had been questioning her relationship with the young slayer even before they'd flown out to LA. Sure she was exciting and sexy and her confident, determined pursuit had been flattering and a much needed balm for Willow's broken heart. But even back in Sunnydale, her confidence had often come across as arrogance and her determination as brashness.

Also, Willow knew that Kennedy was at best, only tolerated by the Gang, and at worst, openly disliked. It had made her uncomfortable and caused her to question the viability of a long-term relationship. And it was a direct contrast to the way that her friends had accepted her partners in the past, both Tara and Oz quickly becoming integral members of the team.

And finally, she came back to the very thing that had bothered her most about her erotic dream. Not only was it not about Kennedy, but the reason she was really so breathless was because the dream had been about Oz! Oh Goddess!

Well, there was no time to lie here and reflect on the hotness that was Oz-sex. Or the wrongness of it, she quickly amended. No, she had to get up and get going. There was just enough time for a cold shower. Willow sighed and crawled out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

Dawn looked in the mirror as she finished brushing her hair. She paused, frowning, as she peered carefully at her face. No matter how closely she looked, she could never spot the green glow of her energy matrix or any evidence of her wacky powers and abilities. She just looked the way she felt, like a normal seventeen year old girl. Well normalish anyway.

But the stuff she'd found out about herself over the last month was hardly normal. Although, it was pretty cool. And a little scary. To be full of an enormous well of energy, to be able to sense the energy signatures of others, to be able to open doors through space; all of these things were awesome.

It did leave Dawn feeling a bit strange and weird and otherworldly though. Like an alien. Or a mutant. This would have been hard for most teenagers to handle. But the fact that she lived amongst witches and vampires and super-powered slayer chicks made her weirdness just a little bit less abnormal. In fact the totally normal ones, like Xander, were the odd-ones-out at Ashdown.

It also didn't hurt that at the moment, she was a very important part of the team. Sure Althanea could identify Slayers, and for that matter Willow and Rowan probably could too. But nobody could do so as quickly and easily as Dawn could. She could even use a portal to take her to the other side of the world, seek out all of the Slayer signals within a thousand mile radius, use the laptop ID programme, print out a list of up to two hundred slayers and be home by dinner.

It felt amazing to be so crucial to the recruitment programme, a fully-fledged Scooby at last. The others treated her with respect and gave her responsibilities they thought she could handle. Opportunities like travelling to LA to scan the West Coast, and the chance to be on the team that was going to break the crazy slayer girl Dana out of a psych hospital.

So, they pretty much treated her like an adult. Even Buffy! Which was cool, but underneath all these skills and responsibilities, she was still just a seventeen year old kid, and she also wanted to live life like any teenager. Part of that involved going back to school.

She could have enrolled in the Slayer's Academy that Willow was setting up at Ashdown. If week one's recruitment drive was any indication then most of the girls would be 15, 16 or 17, so she would have slotted in fine. But Dawn had set herself a firm goal, a normal, real world goal, not just a 'lets do my part to help save the world from the next apocalypse' goal.

She wanted to go to Oxford University. She wanted to do a B.A. with a double major in Classics and History (Ancient and Modern). She knew that her grades would have to be outstanding in order to qualify, and she wanted a really good grounding in languages during her final year at school. And she thought she'd found a school that could give her that.

Imberhorne School was on the north western outskirts of East Grinstead, only a fifteen minute drive from Ashdown, and had an excellent languages department. She'd already downloaded an enrolment pack.

The idea of starting school made her nervous though. She wasn't worried about whether she'd be able to cope with the British curriculum, or what she'd look like in a uniform, or even if the other kids would make fun of her accent, but simply, whether she'd be able to fit in with normal kids. She worried that her 'special' skills would make her stand out in some way. Would her 'uniqueness' just come across as 'difference'? She could ask Buffy or Willow or even Xander, if she seemed 'normal' to them, but they were either so weird themselves or had hung out with weirdos for so long that their opinions didn't really count for much.

In the meantime, there was a month of summer left, and she had a huge amount of work to do scanning the rest of the world for slayers. She couldn't cover the whole globe in the next four weeks, but she was going to try and scan the rest of the U.S., Canada and South America, and if she could manage it Russia. Willow and Althanea would have to deal with Asia, Africa and the Middle East.

But she also wanted to spend some of her time researching her Key abilities. She had so many questions. Would her Key energy replenish itself or eventually run out? Could she open portals through time and between dimensions? Could her blood be collected, stored and used by others to open portals? And most importantly, was she, deep down inside, a normal human? Could she still live a normal life?

With a wry grin on her face, she gave her hair a final flick of the brush and set off to meet the rest of her friends for breakfast.

End Notes: **Brighton and Sussex Medical School** (BSMS) is a medical school formed as a partnership of the University of Brighton and the University of Sussex. I cheated and let Rowan start there a year earlier than their first intake.

**Imberhorne School** is a comprehensive school with specialist Language College status situated in East Grinstead, West Sussex. The school caters for children between the ages of 11 and 18.


	8. Chapter 8 - Shadows

**_Author's Note: _**_As an apology for posting the last chapter as a bunch of weirdly formatted gooble-dee-gook, I've fixed Chapter 7 and posted 8 as well. Make sure you read 7 first. : )_

**_'Down _****_The long shadows where undriven the dawn _**

**_Hunts light into nobility, arouse us noble.' _**

_Philip Larkin_

Buffy wriggled, the padded chair a poor answer to her restlessness and very full bladder. All of her years of slaying, all of the injuries she'd sustained, and she could barely remember an occasion when she'd been in greater discomfort. She was sitting in the waiting room of the X-ray Department of Princess Royal Hospital in Haywards Heath. Spike was perched awkwardly beside her.

"You alright pet?" Spike reached out to grab her hand, but was warned off by the look of ill concealed irritation in her narrowed eyes. He grinned nervously at her.

"What are you smirking at?" she snapped, "And don't 'pet' me. Of course I'm not alright! Why don't you try consuming gallons and gallons of liquid and see how you'd feel. Oh, that's right, Mr 'I don't need to pee 'cos I'm a vampire'. I suppose you think it's funny?"

"No Buffy," Spike said slowly and carefully, "I don't think its funny. And it's only a pint Doc asked you to drink. Not long now pet and you can pee to your heart's content."

"Humph, well maybe I had a bit more than a pint, but just cos I wanted the pictures to be good," she grumbled.

"Good morning to you both." The voice startled them out of their little 'discussion' and they both looked up and into Cat's smiling face.

"So, I see we have a pair of nervous wee campers this morning. And you look like your bladder's fit to burst Buffy. Well come on through and we'll get this scan done so you can make yourself a bit more comfortable." She turned and headed towards a room across the hall, Spike and Buffy following as quickly as the Slayer's bladder would allow.

Once in the room, Cat introduced them to a bubbly blonde woman. "Right guys, this is Alison. She's the senior sonographer. She'll sort you out."

"Hi, Buffy and Spike, right? Okay, Buffy hop up on the bed here. Spike you sit next to the bed so you can see the screen."

Buffy gingerly hoisted her self up onto the bed and carefully eased herself back onto the pillow. Alison worked quickly, lifting Buffy's dress up and laying a spilt cloth over her, positioned so her still flat tummy lay exposed in the gap.

"Right, I'm just going to pop this gel on your tummy. It just helps conduct the sound waves and give us a better picture, but it'll be a little cold." Alison warned.

"Okay, now lets see what we've got." Spike held Buffy's hand as they both looked at the monitor. At first the picture, white shadows on a black background, didn't look like anything recognizable, but as the technician moved the transducer around they began to see movement and a vague, fuzzy outline of a jelly bean.

"Ah, here we are, look here's the head and the chest, with the little heart beating away. And if we move down here you can see the legs kicking about. Alright, I'll just take some measurements."

The room was quiet as Alison clicked on one spot then another. Lines appeared in between the two, then she clicked and started measuring elsewhere. Spike squeezed Buffy's hand tightly, and she glanced at him, moved to see tears tracking down his cheeks. She tugged his hand closer and pressed a kiss into his palm. He gave her a wobbly smile and a soggy hug before turning back to the screen.

"Okay guys, everything seems just fine. Right Buffy, let me clean your tummy, then you can pop next door to the toilet. While you're doing that, I'll print out a few stills for your collection. There's a DVD here of the whole production as well."

Buffy saw to herself then met Spike back in the corridor. He held a large envelope in his hands and still looked rather shell shocked. Once he noticed her, he pulled her into a fierce embrace, burying his face in her hair. She was a little worried he was going to start up with the waterworks again, but he stepped back and stared intently at her.

"You have given me a gift greater than anything mere coin could purchase, more precious than the rarest of jewels. You have given me the gift of true immortality, wrapped up in our wee one's heart beat. I love you Buffy, so very much."

She solemnly returned his gaze and said, "I love you too William. I love you for helping create this precious life." She took his hand and placed it on her belly.

He laughed self-consciously. "Yeah, well I am a sodding git, carrying on like that. No wonder you mixed me up with William."

"You're Spike and William both and I wouldn't want it any other way," Buffy said as she reached up to press her lips against hers.

"Right, if you two have finished with the deep and meaningfuls, then I'll take my leave of you," Cat's voice broke into their quiet contemplation. "I seem to be making a habit of interrupting your private moments."

Buffy blushed, and Spike rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah, do we need to make another appointment?" Buffy asked.

Cat laughed, a light, tinkling sound. "Oh, I don't think we'll need bother about that. Rupert rang me on Monday, and between all the bristling and blustering, I understand that my services are required tomorrow, overseeing the transport and arrival of a special patient. And after that, well, as indisposed as he is towards the idea, it's likely I'll be working there at least part time."

Buffy nodded, not at all privy to the cause of the prickly undercurrents, but aware that Cat was the frontrunner for the medic's job, and equally aware of Giles' unreasonable but nevertheless violent objections to her appointment. She smiled politely, saying "Well we'll see you tomorrow then," before following Spike out to the car park.

The trip home was a quiet but happy one. Buffy looked over the scans of their little one while Spike drove. Just before they turned into their road, Spike flicked on the indicator, pulled into the Garden Centre at Wych Cross and parked outside the tearooms. Buffy turned and looked at him in confusion.

"Just wanted to extend the 'me and you time' a bit before we head back to the bloody bedlam. God knows what next week'll be like, all those little bints shattering our peace and quiet. Thought we could have a bite of lunch, luv. What do you reckon?"

Buffy grinned and shook her head at him as they walked across to the tearooms and grabbed a table. "I thought you were bored with the peace and quiet Big Bad? Don't tell me this Daddy bit's turning you into Giles."

"Oi, bite your tongue missy. I can handle the excitement. Just we won't be getting much alone time from now on."

Buffy nodded and waited for the waitress to set down the pot of tea and plate of sandwiches on the table. "Yeah, you're right. It's awesome that Svetlana and Aiko and Mai and Nisha and all of the other little lost sheep turned up safe and sound, dragging their Watchers behind them, but it sure has upped the busyness scale around the place."

In fact, the arrival over the last three days, of nine Slayer/Watcher pairs from spots all over the world, including Tokyo, Rome and deepest, darkest Siberia had been a cause for celebration. The nine girls had been identified by the old Council in their early teens, and assigned Watchers. Most had continued to live with their families, explaining away the new adults in their lives as sports coaches or academic tutors provided free of charge by the schools they attended. As a bonus, two previously unidentified girls, rescued from the shadow of the Bringers' carnage, had accompanied the Slayer/Watcher pairing from New Dehli.

In all cases, the Watchers were fluent in both English and the mother tongue of their charges. So too were the dozen other Watchers that had arrived from the far flung corners, less in triumph than in trauma having, like Ekrem from Istanbul or Lena from Dusseldorf, been witness to the slaying of their potentials. Yet all thirty, Slayers and Watchers alike, had continued to be active in the field, keeping their local areas free from vampires and demons.

These twenty-one field Watchers had kept in contact with the old Council, communications only disrupted for a few days after Headquarters had been razed. Once the survivors had re-established contact, the international contingent had followed the developments from afar, kept up to date via the Council network. All had responded immediately to the call home. And so they had turned up, the flotsam and jetsam of the First's handiwork, washed up upon Ashdown's shores.

Still, the Slayers themselves were well-trained, active warriors. All had used their potential abilities well, honing their skills and knowledge over time, using them to patrol alongside their Watchers.

These men and women were also a fit and active bunch, mostly in their twenties or thirties, often not long out of Sackville. Along with their skills and experience they brought a much-needed commodity, their linguistic expertise. The ability to communicate with different cultures was critical at the present time.

As such, both slayers and Watchers would provide a valuable boost to the Recruitment teams. In fact Nisha, the little Italian Slayer, had flown out this morning to meet Kennedy's team in Milan, and would travel with them for the rest of the week.

This afternoon they were holding an official welcoming ceremony for the group, followed by a detailed description of the prophecy, the events to date and their plans for the future. As members of the Board and only resident Slayer and Vampire, Buffy and Spike were expected to be there, although what they'd make of Spike was anyone's guess.

Buffy popped the last mouthful of light, fluffy, cream and jam-topped scone into her mouth and washed it down with a final gulp of tea.

"Ready luv? Home to the chaos?"

The Slayer sighed and nodded, it had been a lovely morning, a real escape from the pressures and kookiness of life at Ashdown, a chance, for a short time, to just be a normal couple in love, giddy with the excitement and happiness that comes from having their first child.

Together, hand and hand, they headed out to the car. Time to head back to Ashdown, ready to face whatever mayhem it threw their way.

The afternoon sun slanted through the high windows. Dawn gently fingered the knife in her pocket, waiting nervously for everyone else to get ready. She was careful not to show her nerves, aware that Giles already had his doubts about the whole operation and that Buffy was doing her usual overprotective big sis thing, so it would take only the slightest hesitation on her part for either of them to call the trip off.

Dr. McNair, or Cat as she'd asked Dawn to call her, looked okay, maybe a bit hyper. She was wearing a white medical coat over her clothes and a stethoscope around her neck and you could see the outline of the two, capped syringes in her coat pocket.

They were about to 'pop' over to LA to 'kidnap' the psychotic slayer Dana Strassberg. Dawn's role was to open a portal between here and Gateways Hospital in LA, where Dana was a patient. She and Dr McNair, Cat, would step through the portal, they'd sedate Dana and then bring her back with them.

Over the summer, she'd been researching and testing out her powers and she understood a little more of how it worked now than she had in the first weeks of her blindly ignorant experimentation. Bleeding on its own wouldn't do anything. Of course, if you used the words to certain rituals, invoked at certain times, then her blood could be activated and begin to do its job.

But Dawn could do the same thing mentally. She just needed to hone in on the essence of a place or a person to create a connection first between the two places. Once the connection was up, she could open the portal. Opening the portal didn't actually take any great effort at all, a quick slice across the palm of her hand or a prick of her finger and she was all good. She obviously had a high pain threshold and enhanced healing powers, because she barely felt the cut and it was usually healed within hours. Whether that was because she had inherited some of Buffy's slayer abilities or it was just part of the Key package she'd probably never know.

No, the effort came in making the connection mentally and keeping that connection strong throughout the opening of the portal and the journey to the other side. It only took moments to step through a portal, no longer than stepping through a door, but the more people that passed through that door, the longer she had to keep it open. And making the connection did take some effort.

She'd practiced over the last few days, making small portals, just from one room to another, and losing the mental connection after she'd opened the door. It had snapped shut, just like that, every single time.

Of course she hadn't tried stepping into the portal and then doing the forgetting thing, she wasn't that dumb. God knows where she'd end up, and that was what worried her. Maybe when she got back she'd enlist Willow's help and they'd try a few more experiments, using mice or wind up toy trains or something to see what happened.

But in the meantime, there was today, and she needed to be in top form. Focused so that she didn't lose herself or anyone else. Luckily Faith was to be her anchor on the LA side. Creating a connection required a person or place that she knew, so that she could use their energy to anchor the connection on the far side. She had to keep both the place she was going to and the place she was coming from in mind or else the cord would unravel behind her.

The better she knew someone, the easier to create that connection, so Faith was a good target.

Finally, everyone was ready. Giles, who was in a very odd mood, either bossing everyone around or scurrying off to hide in corners, had just received a call from Faith. They were in position at their end. It was time to go.

Cat had moved over to stand next to her, and Dawn had grabbed her hand. She hoped her own wasn't too sweaty. There were cries of 'Good luck' and 'Safe travelling' but Dawn blocked them out as she began to seek out Faith's essence. It came through strong and clear. Locked in, Dawn dropped Cat's hand for a moment and pulled out her pocket knife. A quick swipe, a drop of blood and the portal popped open, a faint green glow in the centre of the room.

Focussing intently, she grabbed Cat's hand again and took a step forward.

The next moment they were standing next to the sink in a bathroom, the sweet, sickly scent of hospital disinfectants perfuming the air. Faith stood with her arms folded, grinning wildly, a wide-eyed Latina girl standing behind her.

"Wow, that is bitching brat. You're really pulling your weight these days. Playin' with the big guns."

Dawn beamed delightedly, her self-esteem fuelled by Faith's praise. "Hey Faith, this is Dr McNair, Cat. Cat, Faith."

"Hey Doc. You're an interesting looking one. Don't know how we'll go palming you off as one of the resident quacks. You don't look like any doctor I've ever spotted around this place but we'll give it a go. Little Chiquita behind me is Soledad. Chick this is Dawn and Cat."

The girl smiled shyly at them, then followed Faith's lead as she turned and headed towards the door. Dawn and Cat followed behind. Once outside they found they were in a corridor. Either Lisa or Leslie, she could never remember which was which, was stationed beside the door they'd just exited. Dawn nodded and followed Faith, too intent on the mission to worry much about etiquette.

"This is the secure wing. Dana's room is just along here. We don't actually get to visit with her unless a guard is present. So we'll have to wait for the guard, get him to let us in and then knock him out and leave him tied up inside the room. I'm not too keen on doing that to Jerry, he's a good guy, but needs must huh?"

"Hold off for a minute, there might be another way," Dawn said. They'd stopped outside a room and Faith had nodded at Dawn's look. A small window was set into the door in front of her. She peered through and could see the plain white room beyond, a girl sitting slumped on the single bed. Focusing hard, she pulled up a connection to the girl's room, and whipped out her pocket knife. A drop of blood later and the portal was up.

Dawn nodded at the others and everyone except for Lisa hustled through, leaving her to take up the rear. Once in the room, she cut the connection and heard the cord snap in her mind as the portal slammed shut, the sound reverberating through her brain, leaving behind the soft throb of a slight headache.

Faith and Cat were milling around the bed, the slayer speaking in a quiet, gentle tone that seemed to soothe the agitated patient. "Hey baby girl, how are you today? I brought some friends to meet you. It's all good, they won't hurt you."

Cat stepped back and Dawn got her first good look at the girl. Dana was wearing a hospital gown, and her long, dark hair was tangled, partly obscuring her face. She looked so young, like a little girl, nowhere near the 25 years her records stated, frozen in time by the shadows of the traumas she'd faced. Suddenly she looked up, straight at Dawn. She seemed to be entranced, staring at Dawn as if mesmerized. Suddenly, it struck Dawn why that was, the memories of the crazies in Sunnydale and their reactions flooding over her.

"Pretty," Dana said, reaching her hand out towards Dawn, but then shrieking when her fingers encountered the Key's warm skin.

"Quick," Faith said, "we need to get her sedated now. Once she starts going off, it's almost impossible to calm her down."

Cat stepped forward, one of the precious syringes in her right hand. It was already preloaded with the rare elixir _Interfector infirmitatem, _the infamous Slayer's Bane used so notoriously by the old Council as part of the _Cruciamentum_ trials. Cat was about to uncap the syringe when Dana spotted her. Shrieking in fear and anger, the deranged girl charged at the doctor, flinging her into the door.

Faith and Soledad leapt up, restraining Dana as Dawn ran over to Cat's side.

"It's okay Dawn, I'm okay," she said as she allowed Dawn to pull her up. But Cat didn't look okay. There was a nasty gash on her forehead, and blood was dripping down the side of her face. Her eyes looked clear though. And determined! "Come on, let's do this."

She picked up her syringe, popped the cap off and ejected the first few mils, all before heading over to the prostrate slayer. Faith and Soledad held her face down on her bed and Cat quickly jabbed the needle into the girl's immobilised arm, injecting the fluid into her muscle. Intravenous would have been quicker, but there was no way they'd locate a vein on this screeching, squirming banshee, so intramuscular would have to do.

They just needed a few more minutes to keep Dana calm while the drug took effect. Luckily, the girl's agitated state worked in their favour, her elevated heart rate pumping blood through her muscles at a rapid speed. Slowly, she started to relax, whimpering still, but pushing against Faith and Soledad's restraining hands with less and less force.

"Okay, I think we might be good to go," Faith said, slowly straightening up. But as soon as she let go, Dana started thrashing around again and it took all of Soledad's strength to hold her down until Faith added her muscle to the mix.

"Shit, this chick is strong," Faith sighed. "Do you have any more of that juice Doc?"

Cat responded right away, preparing the second syringe and plunging it into Dana's arm. "That should be enough to weaken a baby elephant," she said, concerned about the effects of an overdose on the frantic girl.

Slowly, Faith stepped away from the bed. Dana immediately started struggling, but she seemed to have little strength in her. The senior slayer nodded at Soledad, who gently released Dana and stood up. Once again, Dana began thrashing about on the bed, as weak as a kitten undoubtedly, but by no means calm and compliant. They sat her up on the bed and she lolled there, barely able to support herself, but still keening and writhing and lashing out with her hands.

Faith frowned, things weren't panning out quite as they'd foreseen them. Finally she nodded and turned towards the others.

"Okay, we're almost out of time. Jerry's due on his rounds any minute, so we have to do this now. We can't afford to wait for the drugs to kick in any more. Dawn, you need to open up a portal through to the corridor to let me out, then you need to get the four of you back to Ashdown."

"W-what?" Soledad said nervously.

"Chick, I want you to go with them. The Doc is hurt and Dawn needs to concentrate on keeping the portal open. You'll need to carry Dana, she's not going to be able to stand on her own or move without thrashing about. You'll be fine. They'll look after you there and send you back here as soon as they can. I'm counting on you to do this."

Soledad straightened her shoulders and nodded once, before turning to pick Dana up of the bed, cradling the struggling girl gently in her strong arms.

Dawn's brow was furrowed and a green glow filled the room as Faith quickly stepped through, her words of good luck cutting off part way through as the door snapped shut behind her.

Cat stood behind Soledad's back, lightly clasping the young girl's jacket. Beside them Dawn sighed rubbing her forehead before closing her eyes, sending her senses out across the ocean, seeking her sister's essence.

There, she could sense it, pulsing strong and bright through the void. Dawn locked on, sliced and pushed the other women ahead of her as she heard the sound of a key jingling in the door behind her.

The next thing she knew, she was stumbling to her knees, limp and panting. She lifted her head and looked around. The room was filled with noise and confusion. Dawn blinked and looked again, sighing in relief as she recognized the lounge room of the Lodge. Willow, Rowan and Xander were kneeling or standing next to a highly distressed Dana, Buffy was helping Soledad and Giles was hovering over the injured Cat, wringing his hands and looking uncharacteristically distraught.

"Well done Bit, sounds like you saved the day." Spike's voice was a very welcome sound amongst the pandemonium. "Here, hop up and you and me will head down to my place for a spot of tea. You look like you could do with a strong, sweet cuppa, and I need to get outta here, I'm setting that poor bint off more than she is already."

Spike's long white fingers reached out to grab hers and she clutched them in relief, a solid presence in an afternoon full of shades. Together, she and Spike slipped out of the room, leaving the chaos for the others to sort out. She'd done her bit for the day, and she was happy to slip back into the background for a while. It was hard work being a hero.

End Notes: **Gateways Hospital and Mental Health Center**, located in the Echo Park-Silver Lake community of Los Angeles, is a non-profit organization providing acute in-patient, residential and out-patient services to mentally ill adolescents and adults.


	9. Chapter 9 - Promise

Authors Note: One of my favourite chapters, but you might need to close your eyes and go la-la-la-la-la out loud again if horny sexy Giles disturbs you!

**_'_****_We laugh and we touch. _**

**_I promise you love. Time will not take away that.' _**

_Anne Sexton_

Giles was beside himself. Guilt and regret and indecision flooded through the chambers of his heart, making it thump uncomfortably. He hadn't wanted them to set out on this blasted rescue mission in the first place.

Okay, so they'd managed to get the girl out, wretched creature that she was, but at what cost? Dana was clearly stronger and more disturbed than they had anticipated. What they could do for her was anyone's guess. Then there was the new lass, standing there looking shell shocked and lost. And Dawn, who'd arrived back pale and trembling, clearly having pushed herself beyond her limits.

But worst of all was Catriona. Her first day on the job, well not even on the job really, she hadn't even signed a contract or anything yet; she was just doing them a favor. Anyway, her first mission and she'd been hurt. God, she was so little, much smaller than any of the other girls she'd come back with. The thought of her being hurt made him want to scream.

And what must she think? She already hated him, and now he'd let her get hurt. Still she didn't seem to be looking at him in a hateful way, although there was still one of those annoying cheeky grins on her lips. Well a wobbly version of one anyway.

God, she looked beautiful … or ah terrible, he meant. Yes terrible. By the time they'd got Dana sedated and settled into the secure room they'd prepared for her, the gash on Catriona's head had stopped bleeding, but blood was smeared across the side of her face and the area around the cut was swelling and turning purple. What should he do? Bloody hell, he'd been hovering and wringing his hands like a sodding useless wanker. Why couldn't he get his bloody brain to work? Must be the guilt, yeah, probably the guilt.

"Um Rupert, do ya have an icepack maybe?" Her voice sounded a bit thready, but he could read a touch of exasperation woven through her raspy Scots accent, so he figured she wasn't too badly off.

"Oh, um, yes off course. I'll just, um, there's one in the fridge in my suite, I'll just go and get it." Giles frowned, baffled by the effect she had over him.

"Actually, Rupes, I'm dead on my feet," Cat declared, wavering a little where she stood. "Do you think you could whisk me away from this madness and find me a quiet spot to recover?"

"Of course! Oh my, how stupid of me. We could go to my rooms, they're only across the courtyard. Um, maybe an icepack, a sit down and a nice cup of tea." He didn't wait for Catriona's reply, instead placing his hand on her lower back and gently guiding her out through the door and across the cobblestones. As he slid the key into the lock and opened the door to his unit, her throaty laugh sent shivers down his spine.

"Well, really Rupert, if that's the caliber of chat-up line you've been using, then it's no wonder you're still on your own. Still," she mumbled, "it seems to have netted you a wee sprat anyway."

Giles frowned again, unsure of quite what she meant by that last part, but justifiably insulted by her first comment. God, she really was infuriating at times. He had to bite his tongue and remind himself that she was injured, or he would have called her some rude name and scowled at her.

He led her to the sofa and made sure she was comfy before heading over to the mini fridge and pulling the icepack out of the icebox. He wrapped a cloth around it and took it over to her, then grabbed a warm face cloth, a tube of antiseptic cream and a small bandage from the bathroom.

"Right," he said, after he'd finished cleaning her up, dressing her wound and pressing the cold compress to her head, "I'll just go and pop the kettle on."

"Boil away old man, but if it's all the same to you I'd rather have a glass of Scotch. I'm sure you've got a fine drop stashed away here somewhere." Giles was just about to give her the sharp edge of his tongue for calling him old when she added, "Oh, and a glass of water and a few Disprin too if you can rustle them up."

Her eyes were closed and her head was lying against the back of the sofa, so Giles' frosty glare was wasted on her and instead he stomped petulantly into the bathroom to find the painkillers, then back to the kitchenette to fetch a glass of water.

He plopped them down on the table next to her and hurried back to get the Scotch. Finally everything was laid out, a bottle of Laphroaig, a decanter of ice and two crystal tumblers sat before them. Giles had felt so annoyed that he'd plonked himself down on the couch right next to Catriona before he realized what he was doing, then felt too awkward to move elsewhere.

"How do you take it?" he muttered tersely.

"Straight'll be fine, that's too grand a Scotch ta ruin with water or ice," Catriona said appreciatively.

"Are you quite sure you should even be drinking the stuff? What if you have a concussion? That's a nasty bump you know."

"I'm sure I'm fine, and I'm the doctor after all. Sure I've got a headache but I wasn't knocked out and my memory of the whole drama is fine. But you can check my eyes for unequal pupil size if you're really concerned." Cat turned to face him, her knees brushing against his thighs.

Giles thought it would be churlish to refuse; he was concerned about her after all. He took a large gulp of his Scotch and set it down, before gently taking her chin in his hand, turning her head by small increments until her eyes caught the light and he could see them clearly. Catriona stared straight at him, her amber brown irises gleaming softly. They seemed to be saying something to him, telling him a story that he just couldn't read.

Intrigued, captivated, he sat peering intently into the depths of her eyes, as his heart pounded in his chest. He realized he'd been dreaming of these eyes for years, the same that had first captured his so long ago. How had he never consciously been aware it?

"So, how are they?" she asked softly.

"Beautiful," he whispered, stroking her chin. "Oh, I mean, beautifully equal." He blushed and dropped his hand, but continued to look at her, even in his embarrassment, unable to drag his gaze away. "So, nicely equal and not too dilated. Although, ah, actually, um, they do seem to be a bit dilated," he said, his quiet voice betraying his concern.

"Well," Cat laid her hand along his cheek, "maybe, I have got concussion. But dilated pupils can also mean something else." She paused waiting for his brain to catch up.

"Oh? Oh!" he said, the message finally getting through. "But …"

"No buts Rupert," Cat said as she slid her hand to the back of his neck, "I've been waiting too many years to put this off any longer."

She pulled him down towards her, and all hesitations laid aside, Giles moved willingly, eagerly into her arms.

Their lips touched and he heard a desperate, keening groan. Whether hers or his it mattered not, the mere sound igniting an explosion of passion in both of them. Giles crushed his lips against hers and dragged her against him. Too far, too far, each needed the touch of the other and he hauled her onto his lap, never breaking the deep, fiery kiss they were sharing. Sitting astride him, Cat ground her jean covered crotch against his erection.

Panting, she pulled back a fraction, throwing her head back and circling her hips more firmly. He groaned and pressed kisses along the length of her neck, all the time muttering passionate invocations.

"Oh God, Cat." Her name tumbled from his lips like a prayer. "Baby, want you so bad," he said between kisses, his voice filled with longing. A longing that sprang from the depths of his soul and swept away the tattered veils that had obscured the truth for so long. A flash, as of lightning, arced across his brain, laying bare the memories he'd buried deep inside. He gasped and clutched her to him. "So long, so long. How did I not know? Is it true, have I always wanted you this bad? How could I have lived like this, burning with need for you?"

Cat stilled and pulled his head up to look at her. "Aye, Rupert, all this time, twenty four years. We were meant for one another, we both knew it at a glance."

"But you were only thirteen, I was twenty-six. It couldn't be. All these years, I didn't even remember how it felt when I first gazed into your eyes. How could I forget that?" His voice was broken, distraught.

"I guess because I was only thirteen, you locked the attraction away, ashamed of yourself. Most men would've simply waited till I'd grown up and then come back, but no, you dropped it down into a deep, dark hole, and went off with that bimbo. You broke my heart you ken?"

Giles shuddered and pulled her back into his arms as the memories came rushing back at him like a hail of bullets, obliterating the carefully constructed recollections he'd held for so long and releasing the emotions that had been kept in check. He shook his head in disbelief, before dropping a kiss on her head. "Bloody hell Cat. I only went after that bimbo to try and wipe away my need for _you_. Funny how I'd remembered the events of that wedding differently all these years. But hell, hardly surprising given what a bloody degenerate I was, falling for a child."

"Hing aboot man. You were nae a degenerate; you didnae do a thing wrong, except for maybe falling for the right person at the wrong time. You didn't act on those feelings. You didn't act inappropriately. The only thing you did wrong was to not come after me when I grew up, but some people are verra slow learners I guess."

"Well slow I may be, but I've learnt my lesson. Bloody hell, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but Catriona McNair, I think I'm in love with you."

Cat grinned, joy lighting up her face. She pressed a kiss against his lips and stroked his face. "We'll that's good then, cos I'm crazy mad in love with you, and have been for the last 24 years. So what are you gonna do about it then?"

"Well if you feel up to it, I think it's well past time I showed you." He swooped in, capturing Cat's lips in his own and before long they were once again caught up in a burning, raging passion. Like teenagers they ground together, tearing at one another's clothes desperate to feel the intensity of bare skin against bare skin.

Their shirts discarded, her bra hooked beneath her breasts, her nipples already hard and wet from his greedy mouth, Giles clutched the cheeks of her backside and rose to his feet. Carefully, mindful of his precious cargo, he navigated the furniture and abandoned items of clothing and footwear and strode towards his bedroom. He laid her back gently on the bed and swiftly divested her of her jeans and little black knickers, while she stripped off her bra.

The sight of her, lying there in all of her magnificence, took his breath away. She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen in his life. He could spend hours looking into those gorgeous dark amber eyes, but neither his hormones nor hers would allow it. A fierce tidal wave of yearning welled up from the depths of his soul.

Quickly he shucked off his own jeans and boxers and crawled over her, then slowly, deliberately, eased himself down until their bodies were pressed together. His hard cock lay throbbing between them, her nipples bullet points against his chest as they kissed deeply, their tongues entwined in desire. No time for foreplay, no need, both of them only a hair trigger away from going over the edge.

Giles shifted his weight to his elbows and lifted his hips up and back until the head of his cock slid down and lodged itself in the wet heat of her opening. He froze, wholly intent upon her loving gaze, then slowly, purposefully, slid home. Home. Oh God, home. All these years of wandering the world, and finally, finally he was home.

Slowly, he started moving, thrusting into her depths. His eyes blurred and he kissed her again, the joy bringing with it tears and laughter. He shouted his love to her, roared his pleasure as she came beneath him, and finally spent his essence deep within her, where it had always belonged.

Rolling to the side he gathered her in his arms, their lips drawn together once more. She peered up at him, uncharacteristically somber and quiet for once. "Don't ever let me go Rupert. I don't think I could bear it if you let me go now." Tears pooled in her eyes and overflowed.

His heart breaking for the pain he'd put her through, Giles swore, "I promise I'll never, ever let you go. I want you in my life, in my bed, in my heart for always. In fact …"

Suddenly he leapt up and dashed over to his dresser where he rummaged through the top drawer. "Ah ha," he cried, ran back towards the bed and dropped to his knees.

"Catriona, I love you more than words can say, but I owe you a few, so I'll try my best. You have breezed back into my life, bringing sunshine into my world with your laughter and wit. You've made me see myself in a whole new light. This is the most outrageously spontaneous thing that stuffy staid old Rupert Giles has ever done, but I just can't imagine my life without you in it." He picked a small velvet box up from the floor where he'd put it and opened it. "Cat, will you marry me?"

"Oh bloody hell Rupert, it's aboot time. Gràdh mo chridh, love of my heart, I've waited more than half my life for you. You were my first love; ye'll be my only love. Aye, of course I'll marry you. But yer aff yer heid if ye think I'll wear another girl's engagement ring."

"What? For God's sakes, speak English woman. No, this ring is no one else's. Well, it must have been originally as its Edwardian, but I certainly didn't purchase it with anyone else in mind. In fact, it's probably been yours all along. I've had it for almost twenty years."

"How did you come by it then?"

"Well, I was walking aimlessly around Mayfair one day. I'd just turned thirty, and all of my friends were pairing up and getting married off. Mac and Celeste had just had Rowan and I was pondering marriage and children when I came across this little antique jeweler's store, up a side alley, just off Piccadilly.

There in the window was this ring. It just called to me. I didn't even have a girlfriend at the time, but I was dogged with a feeling of, I don't know, maybe inevitability? That ring was mine to give one day, along with my heart." He grinned sappily at her and she squeezed his hand.

"I was only a junior Watcher at this stage, and not on a very big salary. But I strode right in and put down a deposit. It took me a year to pay it off, but I never missed a payment. I remember the joy I felt the day I picked it up, the sense of anticipation."

"So did you never offer it to anyone else then?"

"Never. I've never ever been engaged, although I've come close at times. Once, about six years ago, I came close enough to start looking at rings. But, I never even considered using this one. I think it's been waiting patiently for you, gathering dust in my sock drawer while I carried on through life oblivious."

"Well in that case, I'll gladly accept your gorgeous ring." Cat extended her left hand, fingers splayed so that Giles could slip the ring onto her ring finger. The fit looked perfect and sure enough, it slid smoothly into place.

"Ooh!" Giles said. A tingle of energy had leapt from the ring and passed through his fingers, washing over his body and leaving a warm glow in its place.

"Ooh indeed," Cat responded, her dilated pupils and rapt expression telling a similar tale. "Well that was something now wasn't it. Guess it's what I get for promising myself to a sorcerer." She peered curiously down at the ring, a large, multi-faceted oval amethyst, encircled by 22 brilliant cut diamonds, set into a band of antique 14 carat gold.

"Wow! It's a bonnie ring Rupert. I'll wear it with pride."

Giles' gaze was still glued to the ring. It fit Cat perfectly; the bohemian style; the shape and size of the stones; the dark violet shade of the amethyst echoing the streaks of color in her hair; and the deep sparkle of the diamonds reflecting her effervescent personality. It was as if it had been made for her, this mysterious, enchanted ring that had called out to him from a shop window two decades ago. A little research was in order he thought.

Elation, incredulity and exhaustion washed over him in waves. He crawled back into bed, kissing his happy fiancée fiercely, holding her lithe body against his. "You might think me crazy, but I've waited 24 years, I don't want to wait a moment longer. If you want to back out, you've only got two weeks to do it. Tomorrow I'm heading into town to give notice at the Registrar's office and apply for a special license."

"You've gone loopy Rupert Giles. But I love you dearly so I'll no complain. We can have the wedding here – venue, catering, your family and friends – they're all on hand already. It won't take much to organize a dress and round up my own kith and kin. Aye, I'll accept your challenge Rupert, but lets make it a fortnight Saturday instead of Friday. An extra day won't kill you."

"So, the 16th August it is. Do you want to have attendants?" Giles asked her softly.

But there was no answer, a quiet little snuffle her only response. He pressed a gentle kiss against her head, whispering his love for her into the violet streaks. He closed his eyes and drifted off, more content than he'd ever been before.


	10. Chapter 10 - Destiny

_'_**_Our destiny, our being's heart and home, _**

**_Is with infinitude, and only there; _**

**_With hope it is, hope that can never die'_**

_William Wordsworth _

Giles was droning on about something. It was undoubtedly important, but Buffy was too nervous to focus on his message. She was only a few yards from him, seated in the front row of the lecture hall as he addressed the room. Behind her sat the nine Slayers who had arrived last week and sixty-six shiny, new recruits, the first batch of slayerettes identified by Dawn and Althanea and located and signed up by the recruitment teams. Seventy-five girls who were looking to her for leadership, guidance, inspiration. No pressure, okay? Right!

Most of these young girls hadn't had to travel too far, either from spots around the U.K. and Ireland, or from just over the channel in France or Spain. But sixteen girls had flown all the way from the States, west coasters the lot, including ten Californian girls. And in a minute, Buffy was going to speak to them for the first time.

She'd love to blame the roiling motion in her tummy on pregnancy nausea, but at thirteen weeks, she'd finally put that behind her. No, it was just good old nerves. As Giles began winding his talk up, Buffy noticed that he sounded kinda weird. Like he had a smile in his voice. In fact, now she thought about it, he'd been acting kinda weird lately. As Giles stepped aside and Buffy took center stage, she decided it was something she should to look into. If she managed to survive the next twenty minutes!

"Hi, I'm Buffy Summers. You've no doubt already heard of me, maybe even heard strange stories about my life. People will tell you things about me, that I'm the head Slayer, the Chosen one, one of the longest living Slayers ever, that I've died a couple of times, and that I've saved the world … lots. They might say that I'm weird and that my friends and family are freaks. You may have also heard that I'm the one responsible for your powers being activated back in May, and you're not sure yet whether that's a blessing or a curse.

Well, all of those things are true in a way. I've done a lot, I've seen a lot and I've kicked a helluva lot of demon ass." Laughter, much of it uncertain or very slightly hysterical, erupted from the ranks.

"I've fought and defeated a jumped up, narcissistic Hell God, a vain and self-absorbed Dracula and a cold and conceited Franken-G.I. I've staked fledgling vampires, freshly hatched from their burial plots and lead a team of the bravest fighters I've ever seen into battle against the armies of Hell. I've had to send one guy I loved to hell and watch another burn to ashes. All of this, and I'm only 22 years old.

Maybe these things seem strange and freaky and supernatural to you, almost impossible for you to relate to. But despite all the bizarre experiences I've had, I'm really not so different from any of you. I know some of you are younger, but a lot of you are sixteen or seventeen. I was only fifteen; just a kid, when I was 'called' and my powers were activated. I hadn't been identified as a potential slayer, so I knew nothing about the supernatural world. I had no idea that vampires and demons were real, that they lived hidden from view but very much part of our world. I didn't know how to fight, how to use a stake or a sword, what to look out for to keep myself safe.

I was no different from many of you – young, scared, uncertain and confused. But you have one huge advantage over the schoolgirl who was forced to burn down her high school gym to get rid of a master vampire and his minions. You have each other. You can share this huge destiny with hundreds of other girls. You can help and support one another through the daily grind, bitch and moan together when things get tough, cheer each other on when you need encouragement, celebrate when you win the battles, console one another when you lose.

You have each other; you have family. You may not know it yet, but from among this slayer family you will find big sisters, little sisters and best friends. Some of you may even find substitute parents.

I didn't have slayer sisters like you do, well not for many years anyway, but I did have a 'family'. I'd like to bring my family out here to meet you."

The first row of people stood and walked to the front of the room to join Buffy, before turning around to face the new slayers. Each took a step forward as Buffy offered up their name.

"This is my family: my sister Dawn, my two best friends Willow and Xander and you already know my Watcher and surrogate Dad, Giles. Each one of these people is special, not just for the particular talents and skills they have developed over time, but also for the enormous emotional support they've been able to provide. They've been with me almost from the beginning of my Slayer journey. They've been with me through thick and thin, stood by me through the triumphs and the disasters. Sometimes we've watched each other make huge mistakes, but we've always had one another's backs. Cos that's what you do with family.

There's one other person who is part of my family, the man who won my heart. He was one of my most determined enemies; he became one of my strongest allies. He has fought for me, he has died for me, and now he is the love of my life. You may have heard of him. If you've never been around his kind before, you'll wonder why he makes you feel so uncomfortable, and if you have, then you'll instantly know why. To our Slayer essence, he is the enemy, but to me and mine he is a champion, a hero. I hope you will come to see him as one of the greatest assets in your lives. Ladies, this is Spike."

The vampire entered the great hall from the foyer on the left, where he'd been out of sight and out of range. There was an immediate reaction from some of the older girls, who having spent years as council trained potentials, were instantly aware of what the pinpricks dancing up and down the backs of their necks meant.

He was dressed innocuously in his 'Watcher garb' – black t-shirt and chambray shirt over dark blue jeans, but his pale visage and graceful gait betrayed his hidden nature. Murmurs of shock and recognition spread out like ripples across the room, as each girl responded hostilely to the face that had haunted her nightmares, to the tingles that tapped the nerves in her spine, and to the voice embedded deep in her subconscious that was screaming at her to fight, to kill. The room trembled with the force of lightly leashed aggression and the air shimmered with hostility.

Spike eyed the girls cockily as he sauntered over to the center of the room, to take his place at Buffy's side. He turned to face them fully and stood, legs apart, thumbs hooked in his belt, fingers dancing dangerously close to his package, an arrogant smirk teasing his lips.

Buffy elbowed him and frowned which just caused his grin to grow wider. Shrugging her shoulders and shaking her head, she gave up and grinned back at him.

The girls watched this in total silence, shocked and confused by the interaction between the head slayer and this creature that they instinctively knew was a vampire. Disruption broke out as the girls started to mutter amongst themselves, and several began to recall Buffy's words of introduction. This creature was a hero and the Slayer's lover?

Buffy let them go for a while, unruffled by the anger and suspicion beginning to build throughout the room. She and Spike stood side by side, flanked by Dawn and Giles on one side and Willow and Xander on the other. The atmosphere had turned ugly, fuelled by the girls' innate enmity of Spike.

Finally, just before the mood grew to riot proportions, Buffy stepped forward.

"Well done girls." The crowd quietened down reluctantly, but tension still flooded the air. "That's what it feels like to be a slayer. That anger and suspicion, that power pouring through your bodies like ultra-adrenaline, that is your slayer essence working its will through you. The slayer in you has awoken, and she is a greedy beast. The call to hunt and destroy that which it recognizes as the enemy is an overriding instinct.

Some may tell you that this is your calling, your destiny; at other times you might see it as a curse or a burden. But either way, now your powers have been activated, there is no going back. To be a slayer is not a job, or a part time interest, it is part of who you are. It's your mission, your reason for being here. You're not here by chance. You're here because you are the chosen ones.

I hope in time, as you get to know Spike, you'll be able to ignore your instincts to dust him. It will be awkward if you can't, cos he'll be responsible for many of your training sessions."

There was a smattering of nervous laughter around the room.

"You will learn that this world you have stepped into is not always black and white. You'll have to recognize the difference, and where it lies, between demons in general and true danger. Your class in 'Mythology 101' will help you identify some of the many demons out there, and sort out friend from foe. But never ignore your instincts totally, they are what will keep you alert, keep you safe, and keep you alive.

Classes don't start for another five weeks, but we will begin training sessions tomorrow, either with Spike and myself or with some of the older slayers that arrived last week. Next week we're expecting another group of 65 girls and another similar number the week after that. Make the most of this time to get to know one another, to share experiences, to bond. We'll be around to chat with or to give advice, so just ask. Thanks girls, finish unpacking and chill, the day's your own."

Buffy relaxed and stood back as the girls began to chatter and get up and move out of the lecture hall. She felt Spike move closer to her from behind and she leaned into him lightly, dropping her left hand to the side to discretely link fingers with his. After all that speechifying she could really do with a Spike hug, but they'd decided to forgo the PDAs in front of the girls, determined to present as professional a face as possible during working hours.

The other Scoobies were milling around, and Rowan and Cat had wandered over to join them.

Giles cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I think that went very well Buffy. It was a bit of a risk bringing Spike in like that, but I think you made your point."

"Yeah, great speech Buffster. You sure gave them some food for thought. Although I'm glad you had that shield up Wills. I don't know how you were feeling Spike, but if Slayer looks could kill, then I think we would have all been dust from the fallout."

"Yeah Harris, it got a little intense there for a minute or two. I don't think I could have kept up the cocky smirk without knowledge of that shield being there. Thanks Red."

"No problem guys. Better to be safe than sorry given the trigger happiness of young slayers."

"How is the school organization going Willow?" Giles asked.

"It's getting there. This week I've been focusing on outlining the curriculum. The girls will do the same core subjects as at any Secondary school, English, Mathematics and Science, but we've tailored the other subjects to suit our special focus. Physical Education will not only encompass fitness, but weapons, defense and training exercises and Citizenship studies will cover ethics and the slayer role in keeping our world safe. ICT will focus on accessing the research database we're putting together and Vocational Studies will look at strategizing, teamwork, and leadership.

We're looking at a few optional subjects now, obviously English as a second language for non English speakers, a couple of Language options for the others, History, which will focus on both the lives of past slayers and the history of various demon races."

"Wow, sounds very schoolish," Buffy said.

"You've worked very hard Willow." Giles pulled out a thick manila envelope. "This came in the post this morning. I haven't opened it yet. Would you care to do the honors?"

The A4 envelope was very official looking, the Department of Education's insignia printed in the left hand corner. Willow took it eagerly from Giles and ripped it open. Her eyes quickly scanned through the page on the top of what looked like a pile of forms and booklets. She squealed in excitement lifted her head up to look at the others.

"Yes, we've got it - provisional approval to operate as an Academy. That means Amazon only has to sponsor ten percent of running costs and the Government will fund the rest. Phew, that's a load of pressure off. We've still got an Offsted inspection tomorrow, and I've set up interviews for the English, Math and Science positions on Wednesday. Then it looks like I've got another wad of forms to fill out and send away," Willow said as she glanced through the pile of papers in her hand.

"How will you staff the other, more 'specialized' classes? And will you teach all of the school levels or just Key Stage 4?" Dawn, who had spent a lot of time recently researching the UK school system, had lost most of the others with her questions.

"Well, Buffy and Spike can teach the P.E. classes, and I'll take the ICT one. I'd love Giles to pick up either Citizenship or Vocational Studies but it will depend on the timetable. Otherwise Anthony Collins is going to provide a couple of his staff to take those classes and History.

And as for levels, we're going to divide the girls into two groups. The 14 and 15 year olds will go into Year 10 for the two year programme leading up to their GCSEs and the 16 and 17 year olds will enter sixth form and work towards their A levels. All the girls will come out with formal qualifications and be well prepared for their slayer responsibilities."

"But what about those girls who are 18 or older?" Rowan asked quietly.

"We don't actually have a huge number of older girls. Five of the field slayers are older and have completed their secondary schooling in their home countries. Two of the new girls are 18 but they'd both finished school as well. So far, apart from Dana, and the 13 year old French girl, all of the other recruits are in the 14 to 17 year old range and even among the older girls, they're all under 20."

"So what happened with the poor loco chit's activation? She's 25 ain't she, so a bit long in the tooth," Spike said.

"We've got a theory about that," Rowan said. "She's been trapped mentally and emotionally at a much younger age. Maybe the mystical force that rules potentials out when they get to a certain age and stage in their lives 'misread' Dana's true age and activated her anyway."

"How's she doing?" Buffy asked. "I keep meaning to go and see her but I haven't got around to it."

"She's calm and settling in to her room," Cat said "We've kept her pretty well sedated and topped it up with wee daily doses of Slayer's Bane. I think Willow and Rowan are planning their inner road trip this week, is that not right girls?"

"Yeah, Thursday," Willow said after glancing at Rowan. "It's me that's holding the works up. I've got Ofsted tomorrow and interviews on Wednesday so it's all to do with scheduling. But we did a little practice on the weekend with Soledad and that went fine. She's a good kid that one. She's been spending quite a bit of time with Dana and has even brought some of the other slayers over to visit her. It seems to calm Dana down when there are other slayers around, like she feels safer."

"Good, good. Cat and I will be there with you on Thursday when you 're ready to begin," Giles said. "Now, Xander, Rowan, the girls appear very happy with their accommodations and the new staff are working well. Well done. Any problems so far?"

"Not yet," Xander replied. "A couple of girls have swapped rooms, but as long as everyone's happy then no problemo. No it's going surprisingly well. The cracks will start to appear once we've got 500 girls squeezed in there."

"So where are you going to house the other 1500 girls?" Spike queried.

"Well, I'm already looking into building companies that specialize in rapid construction of kitset buildings so that we can accommodate the predicted slayer deluge. Once we've selected a company, I'll get them to meet with Wills as well about extra classroom construction."

"Thank you Xander, well done. Now Buffy and Spike?"

"Yeah, the Slayer and I have been working out training schedules. The girls'll do weekly fitness, flexibility and strength training using the pool, the running tracks and the gym. In fact we'll get them started on that tomorrow. Each semester we'll throw a different combat style at them, including tae kwondo, aikido, boxing and capoeira, as well as weapons training such as archery, fencing and kendo."

"Spike and I can handle the general classes by ourselves, but we'll contract local martial arts masters in to teach the different disciplines. We'll add light and medium contact sparring sessions once they've become adept in two or more codes. Sparring will be much easier when you don't have to pour your partner into a fully padded body suit just so he can survive your kicks and punches."

Both Giles and Xander winced, while Dawn and Willow giggled.

"And we've also worked out a schedule for Work Experience," Buffy continued excitedly. "We'll do regular local patrols and each student will spend one week each semester living and patrolling with one of the international squads."

Their ideas were received favorably and compliments were handed out appropriately. Finally Giles turned to Dawn. "How is the tracking going Dawn?"

"Good up until now. We've come to a bit of a halt due to distance factors. We can only scan with any degree of accuracy up to a distance of 1200 miles. Some of the IDs we did in Greece and Ukraine were really stretching matters. We need to get Russia done pretty soon and the Middle East or Asia, but that means either flying or portalling over there for a day or two and I'd prefer to take someone with me but everyone else has been too busy!" Dawn's voice was getting a little bit screechy.

"Maybe," Buffy looked at Spike and he nodded reluctantly, "if you could wait till Friday afternoon, I could do an overnighter with you. Head back Saturday evening. Maybe Moscow?"

"Oh yes," Dawn squeed. "And some sightseeing on Friday night. We can't portal hop all the way to Moscow, I've never been there before and we don't have anyone we know there. But, Team 2 should be in Kiev on Friday, just over the border in the Ukraine. That's Colleen and Matt, Dominique and Chao Ahn. Any of those guys I know well enough to lock onto. Then we could fly into Moscow, it's only a thirty minute flight from Kiev."

"How safe's portal hopping for pregnant mums?" Spike asked.

"It should be no different than walking through a door," Cat answered. "I scanned for things like radioactive isotopes or particle emissions before I hopped over to LA last week, and the readings were perfectly normal. I also checked my own vital signs before the hop and again the following morning. Everything was as you'd expect given the circumstances." Cat looked sideways at Giles and seemed to blush.

Giles smiled at her and reached out to take her hand in his before turning to face the puzzled group before him.

"Yes, well, I'd like, actually we'd like, to make an announcement of our own. Catriona has done me the great honor of not only accepting a part time position as Ashdown's Medical Officer, but also, and more importantly," at this point he paused and turned to gaze fondly at the woman beside him, "of becoming my wife!"

The shocked silence and gaping expressions on the faces of the Scoobies did little to bolster Giles' confidence, but Cat stepping in against his side and lovingly squeezing his hand lent him enough courage to hold his head up high.

"What the hell?" Buffy spluttered in outrage and confusion. "But you two don't even know anything about each other. And what you do know you don't like. Just days ago, you were bitching and mocking and, and … harrumphing about one another behind each other's back. This has got to be some sort of joke."

Buffy's diatribe strengthened Giles' resolve instead of undermining it and he looked her firmly in the eye. But before he could begin to deliver his rebuttal, Spike's quiet interjection diverted the impending explosion.

"Hold on a minute pet, that's a pretty poor argument. After all, that kinda carry on is hardly unique to Rupert and the Doc," he said as he stepped up to her side. "Surely you've heard of UST? You know, unresolved sexual tension!"

"What's that got to do with it? Isn't UST just some pathetic plot device of middle aged romance writers and authors of those fanfiction thingies? I mean who's ever heard of it in real life. How ridiculous. People don't just go from being mortal enemies to suddenly falling madly in love with one another. That's just not …" Buffy's eyes widened and her mouth popped open as she glanced up at Spike's smirk.

"Oh!" she said as the realization hit her. She quickly buried her pink stained face against Spike's chest.

The vampire drew her unresisting body against his, offering her love and comfort even as he delighted in the way she instinctively and unguardedly sought reassurance from him. It still blew him away that she placed so much trust at his feet. Blinking back the sudden sheen from his eyes, he glanced up over Buffy's head and caught the Watcher's gaze, nodding his and the Slayer's acceptance of the new relationship.

Giles nodded back, relieved at Buffy's turn around, reluctant as it may be. The first bomb had been defused, but looking around the room, at Xander's gaping mouth, Dawn's moue of concern and Willow's frown, he knew he wasn't out of the firing range yet.

"I know it's seems sudden. But actually I've known Cat for almost half my life. Yes, she's swept back into my life with the force of a tidal wave. But she's the one, the other half of me. I've wasted too many years without her by my side, and I refuse to waste a minute more."

Xander seemed set to offer his five cents worth when a tug on his hand made him glance down at the upturned face of his girlfriend. Her beautiful face shone with the faith she had in him to do the right thing. He paused, remembering his vow to try and consider things fairly before leaping in judgmentally. Emotive overdrive switched off and reasoning gears fully engaged, Xander decided that if the Universe was benevolent enough to give a loser like him such an amazing second chance at love, then there was no reason why an old guy like Giles shouldn't get a shot at it too.

Mind made up, and proud of himself for his newly found insight and tolerance, he grinned back down at Rowan before taking a step towards the Watcher and thrusting out his hand.

Giles took it hesitantly, suspicious of Xander's rapid turn around, but was surprised and delighted by the boy's confident bestowal of congratulations, and the warm hug and blessings from his goddaughter. He peered closely at the young couple as they stepped back, impressed by the added maturity and common sense Xander had developed over the last few months, certain that Rowan had a significant part to play in that growth.

Willow's reservations however, weren't going to be so easily mollified. She cleared her throat and shook her head at the way her oldest friend had just crumbled.

"Giles, I'm sure we're all happy that you've found someone you're attracted to, that you can spark off. But why the rush? Surely you can take some time to get to know one another as a couple, maybe even live together if you must. Surely there's no need to jump straight into marriage."

Giles considered the open, caring demeanor and gentle voice that barely masked the steel lying beneath Willow's surface, and shook his head in disappointment.

"Willow, this is not some little dalliance or 'crush' as you might phrase it. Cat is the other half of me. Until she dragged the scales from my eyes, I was content with my life, happy with my work and my family, as you have all become. But I was merely stumbling through life, blind to what was missing, the gaping hole deep in my soul that yearned to be filled by that one person that gives our lives meaning."

He turned to face Cat, grasping her two hands in his. "I found that person twenty-four years ago, but because of a number of reasons, some silly, some not, I lost her. I've been granted a second chance to spend the rest of my life with the woman who completes me, whom I love with such an intensity of passion and desire and tenderness that sometimes, when I look at her, when I feel her hands in mine, its all I can do to breathe. Cat is the one, my soul mate, my destiny, the love of my life, and no-one will take that chance away from me."

He turned back to face his friends, finally singling the witch out. "Willow, you of all people should get that."

The room was silent save for the odd sniffle. The girls all had tears running freely down their cheeks. Even the battle-hardened men's eyes were suspiciously shiny.

Suddenly, almost as if reacting to a silent signal, Giles was attacked from all sides. He barely had time to tuck Cat safely in against his side before they struck. Accompanied by high-pitched squeals of glee and little tremors of excitement, his four girls, pseudo-daughters all of them, were gushing and hugging and oh-my-Godding uncontrollably. Extricating himself from the bedlam, the bruising and the likelihood of several crushed ribs, Giles managed to escape as the girls squealed once again at the sight of Cat's ring and began pressing her for details of the upcoming nuptials.

Spike and Xander took in the sight of Giles' shell-shocked form before the vampire laid a hand on his back. "Well done mate, didn't know you had it in you. Looks like you need a strong drop of whiskey though. Come on, back to the Lodge, drinks on us."

The women nodded eagerly, and as one the group turned and slowly made their way out of the converted chapel, chattering and laughing as they went. Giles paused. The early afternoon sun poured in through the stain-glassed windows, the multi-colored shafts of shimmering light bathing the floor of the alcove in a magical glow. The spectacular display seemed almost otherworldly, a touch of serene, ethereal beauty in a chaotic world. Nothing could have more clearly mirrored the tumultuous feelings of rapture coloring his very being, body and soul. With a tremulous smile, he turned and headed off to join his loved ones and his future.


End file.
